


2 Nights In

by VillaKulla



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2014-11-24
Packaged: 2018-02-20 03:56:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 30,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2414105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VillaKulla/pseuds/VillaKulla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the sun streaming in through the RV windows, dust swirling and sparkling it its light, curtains rippling with every jolt of tires, Jesse laughing beside him, both of them coming off a high from what they’d cooked up in a nonstop, sunny, madcap feverish daze…</p><p>Walt felt more alive than ever.</p><p>And then a sudden coughing attack overtook him and thrust him back into his real life, or whatever was left of it.</p><p>(Set during '4 Days Out')</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Night 1

 

“Separate rooms!”

 

“Uh _yeah_ ,” laughed Jesse, grabbing the keys from where he’d thrown them on the dash and sticking them in the ignition. “That’s a given.” The engine roared to life and he swung them out in a wide circle, sweeping back onto the road.

 

As the RV rolled and jerked over the dirt road that would take them back to the highway, Walt cast a glance over at Jesse who was still grinning to himself. Not that Walt could blame him. He was feeling pretty giddy as well.

 

Six-hundred and seventy-two thousand dollars _each_.

 

Never mind the fact that had Walt stayed with Gray Matter he could have made that much in, oh, what. A month? A week? The time it took to walk across his own custom lab that he’d have by now?

 

Walt was too amped for these musings to be laced with any kind of bitterness. Because in just _two days_ he and his most unlikely of lab partners had amassed enough to keep his family going no matter how early Walt kicked it. It wasn’t _quite_ the ideal amount of 737 he’d thrown out to Jesse, in what had to be the most stressful, panicked session of mental math Walt had ever gone through in his life. But hell if it wasn’t _close_.

 

Walt couldn’t resist craning his neck to catch another glimpse of those bags of blue. They rattled slightly with every bump of the RV, contents shaking.

 

It was unbelievable. That something so small could have such a ripple effect. It was a thought Walt tried not to let himself be carried away with though, preferring to be the stone cast at the bottom of the pond, oblivious to the distortions on the surface overhead.

 

But however isolated Walt might have felt in their cook spot, these bags would get out onto the streets sooner or later. All of them reaching people that Walt would – God willing – never meet.

 

Junkies, hookers, pimps, drop-outs, you name it. Jesse might have felt right at home with their ilk but these weren’t exactly Walt’s ‘people’ by any stretch of the imagination. He’d tried to drudge up some sympathy for them, several times, but it just…it didn’t take. Beyond a kind of abstract regret for their situation, what the hell else was Walt supposed to feel for these nameless, faceless lowlifes? Was he supposed to value them above his own family? Hell, was he supposed to value them at _all_?

 

It was too late for the people his product would reach, but it wasn’t too late for the people his product would help: his own. And turning away from the biggest batch they’d ever cooked, Walt sent out a silent thanks to the people who’d soon be withering away for the sake of his growth.

 

Because come on. Between the junkie on the streets and people like himself and his family? Who deserved a second chance more?

 

It was hardly a competition. But Walt would still win it every time.

 

That didn’t mean Walt ever planned on meeting these people though. Having one in his life was more than enough he thought, twisting back to look at Jesse, who was still practically bouncing in the driver’s seat.

 

Jesse looked like he was on the verge of giggling again. Walt had felt himself sober up a bit, looking back at what they’d produced and thinking about its real life ramifications. But Jesse’s excitement was infectious.

 

Maybe that was the reason Walt had trouble simply lumping Jesse in with the rest of his junkie, slacker peers. Not that Jesse didn’t already do a pretty good job of that by himself. But Walt had to admit that Jesse was a cut above the rest, at least going by what he’d already seen of Jesse’s friends. Oh lord. That had been an experience, to say the least. All jumping up on Walt with a hollow earnestness that had been so easy for Walt to play. Jesse was just as blindly enthusiastic as them, but it was with more warmth than Walt expected from people like him.

 

Did Jesse really have no idea how much brighter he was than all that? It was so _frustrating_ to Walt that Jesse seemed so perfectly content to let himself float in his circumstances, tread water at the most, when he could do so much better if he just _listened_ to Walt. Yes he was extraordinarily aggravating and a frequent strain on Walt’s patience. But there was a genuine spark there, glinting somewhere in his brain. A cooling ember that Walt just needed to blow for it to potentially ignite.

 

But try as he might, Jesse just took the attempts for hot air.

 

However, despite a 2-day diet of funyuns, Walt didn’t have much to complain about. Jesse had listened to Walt and applied himself to this batch, all forty-two pounds of it.

                                                       

And with the sun streaming in through the RV windows, dust swirling and sparkling it its light, curtains rippling with every jolt of tires, Jesse laughing beside him, both of them coming off a high from what they’d cooked up in a nonstop, sunny, madcap feverish daze…

 

Walt felt more alive than ever.

 

And then a sudden coughing attack overtook him and thrust him back into his real life, or whatever was left of it.

 

Jesse, who’d been checking his blind spot as he prepared to bring the RV back onto the highway, shot him a glance. The glee slipped off his face abruptly, seeing Walt doubled over and hacking into his sleeve.

 

“Dude, you alright?” Walt just waved him off.

 

Jesse frowned. “Go back and get some water, there’s a lot left.”

 

“No,” Walt gasped into his sleeve, eyes streaming.

 

“Dude for real, I’ll drive slow there’s no one around,” Jesse insisted.

 

Walt looked at him dubiously. Jesse’s driving habits had come up in argument on more than one occasion.

 

_Would you possibly be capable of slowing down for once? We have a meth lab in the back, and of all the ways we could get busted do you really want it to be for something as idiotic as speeding?_

_No one cares if you’re over, man. They expect you to speed a little, don’t we just look MORE suspicious if we obey traffic laws like, perfectly or whatever?_

_How did you even get a driver’s license? Or do you have one at all? No forget it I don’t even want to know._

But now Jesse just rolled his eyes at him and eased off the gas. “For the love of God would you just go already? I can’t listen to that, it’s gross.”

 

Muttering to himself Walt got out of the shotgun seat and staggered back to where they kept their water, keeping a hand on the tables for balance. Not wanting to bother looking for a cup he just held his mouth under the spout and closed his eyes letting the water flood his mouth, trickling out the sides.

 

“You look like a porno,” snickered Jesse who had apparently been keeping an eye on Walt’s progress in the rearview mirror.

 

“How can you make _water_ into something sexual?” grimaced Walt while straightening up. He felt refreshed and more clear-headed though, and he made his way back to the front of the RV.

 

“Easy, man,” Jesse grinned as Walt fell back into the seat beside him. Fluttering his eyelashes he put on a falsetto voice cooing, “H2 _Ohyeah_ , _baby_ ,” and promptly fell apart laughing at his own brilliance.

 

Walt just snorted, and looked out the window at the desert flashing by. It was gorgeous out here. He’d driven cross-country in this area before but until these ‘cookouts’ he’d never taken much time to look.

 

“So what’s the first thing you’re gonna do?” he heard Jesse ask, jolting him out of his reverie.

 

“Do with…”

 

“With the _money_ , man!” Now that Walt had taken Jesse’s advice in drinking something, Jesse seemed back to his previous cheery demeanor.

 

“Oh I don’t know, maybe give it to my _family_ , Jesse? Remember them? The reason I started all this in the first place, ring any bells?” Walt asked him. God, even goldfish had more recall than Jesse sometimes.

 

“Yeah _duh_ , I’m aware of that thank you,” scoffed Jesse, signaling to change lanes, seeing a sign reading ‘Town Ahead’. “But come one, hypothetically there’s not like, _anything_ you want for yourself?”

 

“It doesn’t matter, it’s all going to them anyways,” said Walt. “And I couldn’t get anything big without questions being asked.” He thought for a minute. “Maybe a new water heater.”

 

Jesse sputtered. “You serious? Would it kill you to have an imagination for like, five seconds? You can have anything in the world and you go with a new water heater? Jesus, could you be any more depressing, I mean _wow_.”

 

“What do you want me say, Jesse,” sighed Walt leaning his head on his hand, suddenly too tired to argue with Jesse. They fell into an uncomfortable silence, the previous giddy atmosphere more or less done away with.

 

Walt looked back at Jesse who was gripping the wheel looking irritated at Walt’s unwillingness to play along with his delusions, like he was taking Walt’s sense of responsibility personally. Walt took pity on him.

 

“I’d get the new Chrysler,” he mumbled. Jesse’s approving smile appeared so fast it was like lightning had put it there.

 

“With the 5 or 8-speed transmission?”

 

“What do you think?” Walt smirked. Jesse laughed in response and took the first exit into town.

 

 

***

 

While Walt waited for Jesse to park he had a look around the motel lobby. He felt self-conscious at how sweaty and bedraggled he must appear, but looking at the peeling wallpaper, the single light-bulb overhead, flickering in its socket, the stained ceiling over him and the shag rug beneath his feet…he was willing to bet he was the cleanest thing in here. He only hoped the sheets were in better condition than the sofa behind him.

 

He wasn’t sure where in New Mexico they were exactly. Nowhere close to a Denny’s that was for certain. He had missed the name of the town as they’d driven in but he doubted it would even appear on their map so he didn’t even bother to check. They’d filled up at the town’s one gas station and had driven through its dusty streets looking for a motel where they could actually stretch out for the night. They’d come across this one with its feebly blinking ‘Vacancies’ sign. When he walked into the motel Walt was half-expecting Norman Bates to appear in a nightdress.

 

However, rather than woman’s dressing gown, the man behind the counter was wearing a snakeskin dress shirt, not that that was any less terrifying. He had black hair that hung to the tops of his shoulders, and long fingers that he drummed incessantly on the counter top where he was busy flipping through a magazine. He and Walt made eye contact for a moment before Walt nodded awkwardly, hoping Jesse would get back. He was pretty sure that a closer look at the magazine would reveal it to be porn, but he didn’t care enough to find out.

 

The bell jangled over the flimsy-looking main door of the room and Jesse burst in, pulling Walt’s suitcase which he’d forgotten in the RV. He thrust it at Walt.

 

“Did you make sure it’s locked?” asked Walt in a low voice, instead of thank you.

 

Jesse scowled and dangled the keys in front of Walt’s face, which Walt then swiped from him. “Chill man, it’s locked. Like that would stop anyone who really wanted to break in, though.”

 

They’d disputed the wisdom in leaving the RV in a motel parking lot where any local drunk might find it funny to try and take a look inside. But this place was so small they figured they’d take their chances, the prospect of a bed being too tempting to pass up. These walls looked paper-thin anyways, and Walt was willing to bet that if anyone tried to break in they’d hear it with no problem.

 

As to what they’d do then, they didn’t make it that far in their discussion.

 

“So did you get room keys?” asked Jesse, adjusting the knapsack he’d brought where it hung on his shoulder.

 

“I uh – no.” Walt was unwilling to admit he’d been hoping Jesse would take care of it. Between the two of them, who was more likely to have experience in seedy motels?

 

Jesse just exhaled and brushed past Walt to go to the counter.

 

“Hey, you got any rooms for the night?”

 

The man behind the counter flipped a page. “We do have one,” he said in a deep, booming musical voice that could have been on the radio. Walt didn’t bother to be surprised by it or appreciate it.

 

“Just one?” he asked incredulously, pushing forward to stand by Jesse at the counter. “What is it, peak tourist season here in…” he trailed off, realizing he still didn’t know the name of where they were.

 

“That’s what I said,” Mr. Radio Announcer answered, completely unbothered. Walt sighed. This was just great.

 

“Nothing’s gonna open up?” Jesse asked, looking at Walt doubtfully.

 

“Doesn’t look like it,” said the man. He looked between them. “It’s got two beds though, so you won’t have to share with your dad.”

 

“We’ll take it,” Jesse said quickly before Walt could open his mouth in protest. He counted out enough cash for the night and slid it across the counter. The man handed them their own keys for the room, each with a dangling leather tag with a faded ‘#9’ scratched on.

 

Jesse thanked him and turned to go leaving Walt still standing at the counter. “Come on, _dad_ ,” he called over his shoulder. Walt glanced back at the motel owner, and shrugged awkwardly.

 

“Your son doesn’t look much like you,” the owner said conversationally, looking over Walt once.

 

Walt was about to answer, when Jesse’s voice came floating through the screen door muttering:

 

“Thank God.”

***

 

The second they got into the room Walt dropped his suitcase, strode across the garish orange carpet and collapsed onto the bed that was closer to the wall, lying back and closing his eyes.

 

Jesse snorted at him and deposited his knapsack on the other bed. Walt heard him head to the bathroom and the squeak of a faucet, quickly followed by the blast of shower spray.

 

The door to the bathroom slammed shut. But it didn’t stop Walt from hearing what sounded like Jesse swearing through the bathroom wall. Presumably there was no hot water. Great.

 

In any case it was just so nice to stretch _out_. And Walt fell into a light doze, lulled by the sounds of water drumming on the tiles in the next room over.

 

Sometime later he was jerked awake by Jesse, who was leaning over him and prodding his elbow. Walt opened his eyes blearily.

 

Jesse still had water dripping off the front of his hair but he was in clean clothes. Walt wasn’t aware he even owned any.

 

“I’m going out, I’ll see you later,” said Jesse, straightening back up.

 

“Hang on,” said Walt hoarsely, rubbing his eyes. “Out where?”

 

Jesse just shrugged. “I don’t know. Just out. I’m not hanging out in here all day with nothing to do but jerk off into the takeout menu.”

 

Walt winced. “Lovely.”

 

Jesse just ran a hand through his damp hair, ruffling it up. A few stray droplets hit Walt in the face. Walt was going to be annoyed but it actually felt kind of nice, reminding him that he should get into the shower soon too. Even his layer of dust had a layer of dust.

 

“But yeah I don’t know, I’ll have a look around, whatever. I’ve got my keys so I’ll see you when I get in.”

 

Walt scoffed. “What, big plans for a wild night out in…”

 

Jesse raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t bother to look at the name of the town?”

 

Walt snapped his mouth closed and Jesse’s lip twitched up as he turned to go.

 

“That’s what I thought. Anyways, don’t wait up.”

 

“Don’t be too late,” Walt called after him. “We need to be in good shape to cook tomorrow. I want to get an early start.” Jesse just waved a hand absently at him and headed out the door.

 

Walt waited to hear the lock click but Jesse had apparently forgotten to lock the door behind him, or just didn’t care. Grumbling, Walt swung his legs off the bed and stood up slowly, stretched, and made his way over the door where he exaggeratedly turned the lock, with an irritated expression. It wasn’t like Jesse was actually there to see him, off as he was getting up to God knows what, away from Walt’s supervision. But it was the principle of the thing.

 

Not to mention it made up for the fact that Walt was now alone in a motel room. He wasn’t _offended_ that Jesse was getting up to his own devices. It’s not like when Walt agreed to take a break that he’d been expecting them to actually hang out together or anything. Well…ok, Walt kind of _had_ , however unrealistic the thought actually was. Come on, what would they even have done besides play cards on one of their mattresses or watch crappy TV? The point was that either way, Walt could have used the company. And he’d gotten used to Jesse’s.

 

Walt was momentarily distracted by a bead of sweat rolling off his brow. Oh God this room was sweltering. Walt headed over to the shower, looking forward to actually getting some of the grime off him.

 

His enthusiasm was cut short when he stepped on a wet towel Jesse had left on the bathroom floor. Oh disgusting, did he do this sort of thing on purpose? The towel rack was _right_ th - okay so maybe this bathroom didn’t have a towel rack. Still, Jesse could have spread it on the side of the tub, or over the rod for the shower curtain, the hook on the door…

 

Mentally listing the different ways in which Jesse could take an active role in _not_ being a strain on him, Walt quickly divested himself of his clothes and stepped into the shower, turning the faucet. The old showerhead sputtered to life and Walt immediately felt better with the cool water sluicing over his body, leaving rivulets through the dust. It was so hot in the room he didn’t even mind that there was only cold water.

 

Walt took his time under the spray, his muscles beginning to relax. His mind still felt hazy from so much cooking under the hot sun that beat down on them through the RV windows, practically cooking them in their suits. He lifted his face to the water and let it drum on his eyelids, trickle over the skin, clearing his head.

 

When he felt sufficiently refreshed he stepped out of the shower and gave himself a half-hearted job of toweling off with the one towel that was left. He got into a clean pair of clothes, skin still somewhat damp. It felt almost obscenely nice.

 

He flopped back onto the bed he’d claimed earlier and on reflex reached for the remote on the nightstand between the two beds. Switching through the channels he didn’t even bother to look at the one he settled on, just let his head fall back against the wall.

 

Glancing around the room he couldn’t help letting out a sigh. What in God’s name was the décor supposed to be in here? Not that Walt cared one way or another about interior decorating. But you couldn’t expect him to _not_ notice if a room looked like the kind of place a working girl might take her clients. He wouldn’t be surprised if this place had an option to rent rooms by the hour.

 

I mean come on, the bright red of the walls (and falling asleep with that shade burning through his eyelids was going to be a chore, Walt could tell), the plush orange carpet that looked like something out of a 70s porno, the bizarre art deco motif in the battered black furniture…nothing made sense. Walt felt like he was starring in a filler episode of Miami Vice. Except Miami was an actual city and Walt still didn’t know where the hell they were.

 

Out of curiosity Walt reached out to pull the drawer of the nightstand open and fumbled inside. He wasn’t even remotely surprised when he withdrew an old skin mag.  They were probably in every room of this place. He opened it at random and a small cloud of dust puffed up which he waved away. He barely even registered the woman staring vapidly up at him from the pages. Taking a moment to be amused by how vintage the whole photoshoot looked, he cast the magazine aside and reached into the drawer again.

 

Unlike the magazine, the foil packet of lube he withdrew _was_ a surprise. He quickly tossed it back in, feeling a bit uncomfortable. It was one thing to sneer at the idea of a prostitute with nowhere better to take her customers than a hole like this one in the privacy of his brain. Seeing remnants of the reality however felt significantly less amusing.

 

With a sigh Walt pushed the drawer shut and reached again for the magazine. A piece of paper slipped out from where it was caught between the pages and Walt picked it up. His forehead creased for a moment and then smoothed out as he laughed to himself, remembering Jesse’s comment about getting off into a menu for takeout. He threw the menu to the side.

 

The magazine lay next to him on the mattress and Walt’s eyes automatically slid to it.

 

…

 

It might not…it might not be the _worst_ idea in the world he thought, as he casually flicked through the pages with one hand, the other settling on his upper thigh, just grazing where his legs met.

 

He settled on one picture. If pornography clichés could be condensed into a single image it would be this. A woman crouched across the centerfold, meeting Walt’s gaze from under heavy fake eyelashes covering her big blue eyes. Her hair was puffed out all 80s-style, bleached all over but black at the roots. And Walt had plastic beakers in his lab that were more natural than her breasts.

 

But the way she was crawling, the crease of the centerfold obscuring the main attraction and leaving something to the imagination, the way her breasts seemed almost mid-swing, brushing the floor, pulled downward by their own weight…

 

…Walt felt himself beginning to take an interest, perking up slightly under his khakis. He gripped himself where his pants were beginning to tent and let out a soft sigh. Fuck that felt good. He gave another squeeze and let his head fall back, closing his eyes.

 

His hand snaked his way inside of his pants and loosely curling his fingers around himself he slowly pulled upwards, letting the pads of his fingers drag along the skin. He shuddered slightly and let his fist drop down again and pulled it back up, squeezing a bit tighter, breath leaving him in a _whoosh_.

 

Keeping the rhythm he slowly opened his eyes stared absently at the TV on the wall opposite him. He hadn’t realized he’d landed on the news before. The screen was showing what looked like a hospital. He stared at the picture, mechanically tugging at himself, reading the subtitle on reflex. _Stem cell studies leads to boost in cancer research._

 

He watched as doctor in a crisp white coat walked importantly out of the frame with a tray of surgical instruments that had definitely been arranged for the camera’s benefit. Biting his lip he jerked himself in another absent stroke –

 

\- and then almost instantly deflated. The mood – meager though it had been – had been shot. He withdrew his hand from his pants and reached for the remote to switch off the TV, flopping back down on the mattress with a heavy sigh. God this was pathetic.

 

Just a few days earlier he’d been berating Jesse for having nothing better to do than lie around in bed, smoking, eating junk food, and partaking in…exactly what Walt had just been doing. And now Jesse was out and about, and even though he well could have just been smoking some of their batch, at least he was doing it outside, somewhere other than a seedy motel room. And Walt was the one acting like some stoned teenager with nothing better to do than to hang around in bed all day with his hand in his pants.

 

Walt suddenly felt ridiculous. He was acting like some loser. He was acting like one of his _clients_.

 

He thought about the bit they’d just been showing on the TV, the one that had broken through the meager fantasy he’d tried to slap together for himself. Cancer research.

 

He’d more or less put it out of his head the past couple days. He and Jesse had been so busy working, and with his hands and mind always occupied with the steps of the cook he’d been too focused to dwell on it. But here in the empty motel room the truth hung around him like smoke.

 

He was dying.

 

This wasn’t news. Walt knew this from the get go. Which made it all the more surprising when he felt his throat begin to close up.

 

 _Oh come on, not now, get a hold of yourself_. Walt blinked away the sting that had suddenly appeared in his eyes, chalking it up to residual moisture from his nap from earlier.

 

Out of nowhere Walt thought about his mother. His mother who he’d used as an excuse for this getaway, who he still hadn’t told about his cancer. He had a brief vision of her hand pressed to his forehead, checking his temperature. The memory washed over him so strongly he could practically feel how cool her hands felt against his flushed, feverish skin, how soothing it felt when he was little and so sick he couldn’t even manage to sit up in bed.

 

But then the memory evaporated as quickly as it had come, leaving Walt alone, technically sicker than he’d ever been in his life, but this time handling it on his own.

 

Walt wasn’t sure when it was he’d become a grownup. It was like one day he’d tripped in the playground and when he’d gotten back up he was staring at a plate of eggs and bacon spelling out the number fifty.

 

Walt sighed and took off his glasses, rubbed the bridge of his nose and squinted.

 

And unable to handle another second of introspection he was getting up off the bed in one quick motion, walking over to the cheap dresser across the room, grabbing his room key from off the top, and was out the door.

 

Between grappling with his own being and avoiding it, Walt felt a lot better choosing flight over fight.

 

 

***

 

 

Walt stood outside the sports bar he’d come across while walking through town. He was shuffling on the porch outside its front door, listening to the sounds of classic rock coming from a jukebox somewhere inside. He hadn’t been walking with any particular aim in mind. He was just getting a look at the town – not that it was hard to cover all of it – looking at the run-down single-story houses not unlike the one in which he’d grown up, with their American flags hanging limply in the heat.

 

He’d found himself on the main street of town just as dusk was hitting. It was the time of day where the sun was hanging low in the sky and the weight of the day was pressing in just feet off of the hot pavement, almost palpable in its heaviness. He’d wandered down the street, reading the signs in the shop windows, eyes peeled for a grocery store where they could maybe restock before heading out tomorrow and where he could also explain to Jesse the concept of a vitamin.

 

But that was tomorrow’s problem. Today’s was whether or not to follow the pleasantly thumping bass line into this bar where he’d probably look completely out of place judging by the biker types smoking around him, or to step back off the rickety wooden porch and head back in the direction he came.

 

The muffled jukebox won out though, combined with the scent of fried food that had just wafted enticingly through the cracks in the door. And pushing it open Walt was immediately enveloped by a blast of guitar, the clatter of pool tables, and chatter everywhere.

 

Walt walked along the wall, sticking to the perimeter of the room, whose inhabitants he was eyeing. He didn’t have anything to worry about though. However much the people outside looked like they were auditioning to be extras in a Hell’s Angels movie, there seemed to be all types in here, and most of them seemed to be regulars. Truckers with their hats in the center of the circular wooden tables, middle-aged women sharing plates of nachos, piling them with cheese but adamantly avoiding the plastic containers of sour cream. People around Jesse’s age playing darts in one corner, old men staring into their drinks while listening to their buddies tell them the same stories they’d heard a hundred times before.

 

Most people seemed to know each other. No one spared Walt a second glance.

 

He headed over to the bar, walking past faded posters of different bands, alcohols and sports teams. And then drew up short.

 

Jesse was sitting by himself on one of the leather-padded barstools, drink in one hand, phone in the other, and a gloomy expression as he stared at the latter.

 

Walt cast a look around, not really knowing why. He looked back at Jesse’s figure that was currently slumped dejectedly over the bar.

 

Jesse put down the glass mug he’d been holding and held his phone with both hands as he texted, thumbs flying. Walt watched him stare at the phone for a few moments after sending off a text. He could see a muscle twitch in Jesse’s cheek from here as he shoved his phone back in his pocket, picking up his mug of beer again. Walt realized it was empty just as Jesse did, and Jesse set it down again, seeming to sigh as he parked his chin in his hands.

 

Walt headed over and slid into the empty stool beside Jesse. Jesse looked around at him just as Walt held up two fingers at the bartender.

 

“What he was having,” he said, and the bartender nodded, removing Jesse’s empty glass. Only then did Walt turn to face Jesse, who was looking somewhat taken aback.

 

“Oh I’m sorry, is this seat taken?” Walt asked him sarcastically.

 

Jesse stared at him for a long moment. And then he just shrugged and swiveled back on his seat to face the bar, eyes roaming aimlessly over the rows of glasses. Walt adjusted himself more comfortably on his own seat.

 

They sat side by side not saying anything. Until Jesse swung back around.

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

Walt twiddled an empty coaster around in circles on the bar top. “Looking around. You?”

 

Jesse shrugged again. “Same. Went walking. Just hanging out.”

 

Walt nodded. They fell into silence again.

 

The bartender came back with two draft beers and set them down in front of them. Jesse picked up one.

 

“Well to your very good health,” he said ironically, and raised the glass to his lips.

 

“I’m dying,” Walt said.

 

Jesse choked, spraying himself with foam and immediately started coughing. He set his glass down and covered his mouth with his sleeve, hacking into it, curled in on himself.

 

A few coughs later he straightened back up and looked at Walt with streaming eyes.

 

“Excuse me?” he gasped.

 

Walt bit his lip. “I’m dying. Methylamine doesn’t go bad. Whatever time I have left is…not much. That’s why I got you out here, cooking like this.” He reached for his own glass, mock-saluting Jesse with it.

 

“Your health,” he echoed, and took a swallow.

 

Jesse’s mouth hung open. “Wait like…you’re actually dying?”

 

Walt nodded. Jesse leaned forward, lowering his voice.

 

“I mean more than usual?”

 

Walt shot him a scathing look. Jesse leaned back, letting out a breath. He looked shocked.

 

“Jesus,” he said, shaking his head. He picked up his glass again and hesitated before raising it to his lips.

 

“Sorry, man,” he muttered, and then took a sip. Walt had heard many variants of this sentiment since his diagnosis. For some reason Jesse’s words, mumbled as they were into his beer, felt more genuine than any other time Walt had gotten them before.

 

“No, Jesse, I – I shouldn’t have pulled you out here like this.”

 

Jesse looked at him in surprise. “Well you didn’t have to give me all that methylamine crap,” he said. “I would have come anyways if you’d just told me that in the first place.”

 

Walt raised his eyebrows. “Oh really.”

 

“Uh, _yeah_ ,” said Jesse in disbelief.

 

“What, even with the promise of a weekend with your – “ Walt paused, not actually sure if the girl Jesse was being so cagey about was even a girlfriend, a friend with benefits, or whatever. He settled for just asking: “Your girl?”

 

A shadow passed over Jesse’s face. “I don’t know if she’d call herself anyone’s ‘girl’.”

 

Walt snorted. “Free spirit?”

 

“Got that right,” Jesse muttered. He then looked guilty. “Nah man, she should be mad at me. I mean I was only able to text her now. And she made it pretty clear she doesn’t have to wait around if someone’s gonna leave her hanging.”

 

Walt felt slightly ashamed of his role in dragging Jesse away.

 

“Could you tell her you…I don’t know. You didn’t have a choice?” he asked doubtfully.

 

“Well no I mean she gets it, she’s cool,” Jesse said with a bit of a sigh. “But she seemed kind of pissed and now she’s ignoring me. You know like, sending a message by – by _not_ sending a message, you know?”

 

Walt huffed out a laugh. “Believe me I do.”

 

Jesse glanced at him as though remembering Walt’s own wife whom he’d met just the once. He nodded wisely and lifted his mug.

 

“Trouble in paradise?” he offered, seeing as how his last toast had missed the mark spectacularly.

 

Walt wanted to laugh out loud at how young Jesse sounded, the world-weary phrase sounding completely wrong in his mouth. As though whatever flings he got up to were somehow comparable to years of marriage with the same woman.

 

But when he looked back at Jesse he was struck by how tired he looked. Not his usual feigned exasperation that probably required every ounce of his energy to maintain. He seemed genuinely beaten down by everything. Not one of his better looks to be honest. And Walt was including those hoodies.

 

Walt wasn’t sure how he’d ended up in the middle of nowhere, relating to Jesse Pinkman of all people. But here they were. And so he picked up his own glass and clinked it once against Jesse’s mumbling ‘trouble in paradise’, and they both tilted their heads back to drain them.

 

They set their glasses down at the same time and the bartender came over to clear them.

 

“Another round?” he asked them.

 

Walt reached into his pocket for his wallet. Before Jesse could open his mouth Walt was sliding a hundred dollar bill across the counter.

 

Both the bartender and Jesse looked at it, then Walt. The bartender looked dubious, Jesse looked amused. Walt just lifted his eyebrows innocently.

 

“Keep ‘em coming.”

 

 

***

 

One drink later they’d moved from the bar to one of the wooden tables in the centre of the room.

 

_These stools are the worst, man. My back is killing me._

_Careful, your rheumatism will be acting up next._

_Too much time around you._

 

_Ha._

At a certain point the lights had dimmed somewhat and the music pumping out of the jukebox had been cranked up, to signal the shift from evening hours to night. The chatter around them had gotten a little louder, people moving a little more loosely.

 

Walt looked at Jesse who was sitting across from him, slightly flushed from the beer though not particularly tipsy yet, or just barely. He was humming tunelessly along with whatever had just come on the jukebox, tapping his fingers along to the thumping bass line. Walt suppressed a smile and cleared his throat.

 

“You like this song?”

 

“What?” said Jesse looking back at him. “Oh I don’t really know it. I might go have a look at their selection though, see what they have.”

 

Walt scoffed and looked around the bar. “It’s probably not much.” He looked back at Jesse who was frowning.

 

“What?” he asked Jesse.

 

Jesse pushed his glass aside. “Dude what was that for?”

 

“What was what for?” What was Jesse even talking about?

 

“Yo, ever since we rolled into this town you’ve been acting like there’s a bad smell under your nose.”

 

Walt opened his mouth to deny it but Jesse cut him off.

 

“What, like it’s not true? Dude, you’re not _better_ than these people, just ‘cause you came from…I don’t know,” Jesse shrugged. “An easier background or whatever.”

 

Walt was so surprised by the seriousness in Jesse’s voice he almost missed the assumption of ‘easier background’.

 

“Is that what you think?” he raised an eyebrow.

 

“Well why wouldn’t I?” said Jesse a bit skeptically.

 

Walt wasn’t about to get into it with Jesse. The feeling of just barely scraping together enough for a beer, when his friends would go out after their university exams. Friends who would always just write to their parents for anything extra. Sitting at the group table with growing panic, trying to remember what excuse he’d used last time so he could duck out before it was his turn to buy a round. Hoping no one would notice he studied from photocopied pages of library textbooks rather than buying his own.

 

Walt was getting maudlin, he’d actually loved college. The qualities that had made him unpopular in high school had had the exact opposite effect in university, where ‘bookishness’ had gotten him more than just good grades. A _lot_ more.

 

But hell if the whole system hadn’t left him with a relationship with money that was both parts coveting and resentful.

 

Walt _could_ have let himself slide in the direction of the inhabitants of this bar. If he’d given up any sooner that could have been him in the trucker hat over at the next table. Hadn’t he earned the right to be a bit smug for bettering himself?

 

Not according to Jesse, who was looking at him with something close to disappointment, as though he were reading Walt’s thoughts.

 

“Well what about you?” Walt asked him feeling a bit uncomfortable under Jesse’s scrutinizing gaze.

 

“Well that’s just it, man. My parents had a ton of green, yo. And you don’t see me acting like everyone around me is gum under my shoe.” Jesse took another swallow of beer.

 

That was an understatement if ever Walt had heard one. Jesse seemed so happy to lump himself in with all the other pieces of gum that he didn’t even mind if it meant he kept being driven into the pavement.

 

Walt wrinkled his forehead. “Who were your parents again?”

 

“Dude, you’ve probably met them at a parent teacher night or something.”

 

Oh that was right. Walt sometimes got so caught up with the idea of making Jesse into a student of his formula that he would completely forget Jesse had indeed been an _actual_ student of his. It was sort of hard to reconcile that history with them being here now though.

 

Walt laughed humorlessly. “Do you have any idea how many students and their parents I’ve met over the years?”

 

Jesse rolled his eyes. “Seven hundred and thirty seven thousand?” he mocked, and laughed at Walt’s face.

 

“Whatever,” Walt waved his hand. “But no I don’t remember them, sorry. But they were well off, then? Stable people?

 

Jesse’s smile was wiped off his face and turned into something more bitter.

 

“If they were then would I be here with you now?” he asked.

 

Walt wanted to object until he realized Jesse had a point.

 

“Their loss?” he ventured, and the hard line of Jesse’s mouth smoothed out somewhat. Walt didn’t know where that had come from but it was nice to see Jesse wear expressions closer to his own age than those of the weary people around them. Walt felt a clench in his gut as he looked around the room, feeling guilty. But still…

 

“It doesn’t bother you though, Jesse? I mean constantly hanging out with people like our…” Walt lowered his voice. “Our clientele?”

 

Jesse just stared at him. “And who does our ‘clientele’ get it from?” he asked dryly, taking another sip of his beer. He set his glass down again. “You can keep as many degrees as you want between the stuff in the RV and where it goes, man. Doesn’t change the fact that it all comes from – “ and he lifted his hand, pointing it in a jabbing motion towards Walt.

 

Walt shifted in his seat and Jesse looked at him knowingly. “You’re in the business, yo. And just because you wear glasses and a shirt with buttons, it doesn’t make you any more ‘respectable’ than them. However much you look it.”

 

Walt wasn’t in the mood to argue the point with Jesse. So maybe Jesse was right, Walt had been acting superior about being here. Not that he was about to admit it to Jesse, though.

 

Jesse stared at him a beat longer. “Whatever, man,” he muttered, finishing his beer.

 

Walt watched him avoiding Walt’s gaze.

 

“I’m sorry I called your friend a stripper,” he blurted out.

 

Jesse’s head lifted in surprise, forehead creased. Walt looked at him sincerely and Jesse seemed to hear the other apology in it because his face softened.

 

“S’alright,” he mumbled. He leaned across the table towards Walt. “You know what would make me _really_ believe you, though?”

 

Walt leaned in, matching Jesse’s pose.

 

Jesse took a breath. “Seeing if this town has an actual strip club,” he grinned up at Walt.

 

Walt balled up a napkin and launched it at him. And rolling his eyes at Jesse’s current fit of laughter he signaled to their waitress for another round.

 

***

 

Okay so _now_ they were tipsy.

 

Not falling over drunk or anything. But that point where you look around the room and it takes your eyes just _that_ much longer to catch up to where your head is turning.

 

Walt was enjoying the pleasant buzzing in his head, warm all over from how the room was slightly more crowded, people pressed together, shouting across the room at each other, voices mingling with the loud music and the rattling clack from the pool tables.

 

He and Jesse still kept the same table though. It would have been a lot more cluttered with empty beer glasses if the waitress weren’t so brisk in replacing them, spurred on by the extra hundred Walt had slipped her.

 

Jesse sat across from him, cheeks flushed and eyes bright, a hazy smile lingering at the corners of his mouth. It was a far cry from how he’d looked when Walt had first walked in there.

 

Walt reached towards the fresh glasses their waitress had just set down, trying to grab the handle of one and frowning slightly when his fingers closed over nothing. Jesse snickered at him.

 

Walt ignored him. “You know I bet this used to be a tavern? The kind that wouldn’t have let in women? And where you could probably get ten draft beers just like this for a dollar.”

 

Jesse lifted his eyebrows. “Oh yeah? You gonna show me the ballot from when you voted for Lincoln?”

 

 “I didn’t mean _I’d_ go to them, I’m not that old,” Walt grumbled.

 

“Please, you practically handed that one to me,” Jesse snorted, leaning back and stretching. He picked up his new mug and took a lazy swallow. Walt watched the line of his throat. God he was so…healthy. However much Walt mocked his dietary habits. But compared to Walt at least his body functioned.

 

Jesse set the glass back down, oblivious to Walt’s brief spell of envy. His eyes were wide as he grinned at Walt.

 

“Dude, we should get shots.”

 

“Shots?” Walt repeated.

 

Jesse was already waving at the waitress. “Yeah come on, man. You need to loosen up.”

 

“I’m loose,” Walt protested. He was feeling mellower than he had in weeks.

 

“Yeah but like…come on.” Jesse’s voiced dropped. “How much longer did you say you had?”

 

Walt shrugged. “A month? At the outside?”

 

A spasm crossed Jesse’s face briefly. But it was quickly replaced by the cheery smile he was now sending Walt’s way.

 

“Well exactly. You’ve gotta live it up while you still can.” The waitress reached them and Jesse swung the charming smile around to her.

 

“Four tequila shots, please?”

 

“Sure honey,” she said, laughing at the way Walt groaned. Jesse beamed at him as she walked away.

 

“You’ll thank me.”

 

“Wanna bet?”

 

 

***

 

 

You know how there’s a certain point when you make the transition from tipsy to drunk?

 

Walt wanted to pin it down. But he couldn’t. Because he was drunk.

 

“ – and then the bouncer came in, and dude, I swear to God I’ve never run so fast in my life,” Jesse burst out laughing, stretching his arms helplessly over the table.

 

“Oh God,” Walt dragged a hand over his eyes. He was laughing despite himself at the story, though.

 

“So how about you,” asked Jesse, once he’d gotten his breath back.

 

“How about me what?”

 

“You know,” Jesse grinned at him. “Weirdest place, man.”

 

Walt thought back, unsure as to how this conversation even got started.

 

“Library,” he decided. “After hours.”

 

Jesse burst out laughing again.

 

“Jesus,” he said, wiping his eyes. “You would.”

 

“Yeah yeah, it was college,” Walt defended himself. “But I don’t know if it counts, it was just a blowjob.”

 

“How do you even convince someone to give you _just_ a blowjob?” Jesse grumbled, picking up his beer.

 

Walt thought back. “He didn’t need that much convincing.”

 

Jesse sputtered into his beer mug. He looked up at Walt.

 

“Come again?” he burst out. And then immediately groaned. “Oh God not – I mean – shut up. _Excuse me_?”

 

Walt shrugged. “You asked,” he took a sip of beer, too much alcohol slipping through his veins, warming him from the inside out to feel at all awkward about it. He’d never mentioned this to anyone but what the hell. Like Jesse had reminded him, how much longer did he have left? In the grand scheme of things, what was the use in feeling awkward about a college impulse that had happened while pressed up against a row of encyclopedias, their spines digging into his?

 

Jesse was staring at him with his mouth hanging open. “Dude. _Dude_.”

 

“ _What_?”

 

“I was _right_ ,” Jesse crowed, smacking his hand loudly on the table, startling the people around them. “You are _so_ gay,” he gasped out.

 

Walt made an exasperated sound. “It wasn’t _gay_ , it was…” he waved his hand around. Jesse raised his eyebrows in disbelief, waiting.

 

“Academia,” he finished, lamely.

 

Jesse stared at him for a beat.

 

And then burst into uncontrollable laughter.

 

The other patrons looked round at Jesse who was collapsed on the table obliviously, shaking with laughter. Walt gave them a weak smile and they looked away.

 

Jesse finally straightened up, eyes red, gasping for breath.

 

“That is the gayest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” he said, shaking his head. He mouthed _academia_ to himself and then started up all over again.

 

Walt shook his head but couldn’t help the smile tugging at his mouth.

 

“Oh boy,” said Jesse when he was somewhat calmed. He looked at Walt, completely full of mirth. “Well just remind me to never put a bookshelf in the RV.”

 

Walt snorted. “Even I couldn’t calculate the odds of you bringing a book.”

 

“Whatever. Dick,” Jesse said. But he immediately brightened when their waitress set down two new tequila shots. He slid one over to Walt while licking the patch of skin between his thumb and forefinger suggestively, exaggeratedly moistening the skin, eyes glimmering with mischief.

 

Walt rolled his eyes. “Wrong technique,” he drawled, smirking at the way Jesse instantly flushed red, and he reached for the saltshaker between them.

 

“Yeah you’d know, Mr. ‘Academia’,” Jesse muttered, but he held out his hand for Walt to shake salt onto, still with the shadow of a grin around his lips. And he dragged his tongue over the salt, normally this time, threw his shot back and bit into the slice of lime. Walt followed suit.

 

The lime gushed out between his teeth, flooding his mouth, sour mingling with salt mingling with the alcohol’s thick burn.

 

He set the empty shot glass down. God that had a kick. And how many had they had now? He felt dazed but not unpleasantly so.

 

He leaned his chin on his hand and lazily looked up at Jesse through his eyelids, taking stock of him. Jesse was leaning back in his chair, all loose limbs and easy smile. He was looking at Walt a little fuzzily, still with it, but clearly way past tipsy. He ran a hand through his hair, pupils dilated from the shot.

 

Walt was sort of surprised at how relaxed Jesse seemed about the fact that he was not the first guy Walt had had his pants off in front of. Okay, so _completely_ different situations, but Jesse still had the maturity of a high schooler. Sometimes. He could have had an entirely different reaction.

 

Walt had actually almost forgotten about that one particular ‘study session’. It wasn’t something Walt had even been planning. He’d just had the idea of ‘what if I could get him to - ,’ quickly followed by ‘fuck it’. And before he knew it he’d been pressed against the bookshelf with more than just a swollen sense of his persuasive abilities.

 

It had been a one-off. He’d met Gretchen shortly after that. And after that there was Skyler. And then there’d been no ‘after that’. And he’d barely thought about it since, until Jesse decided that ‘sexual escapades’ was the best possible conversation topic for them. Come to think of it, he probably would have been around the same age as Jesse was now.

 

In any case, Jesse seemed to be taking the reveal in stride. Granted he’d had a huge amount of alcohol, with less body mass to soak it up with than Walt. But was that why he was so relaxed about the whole thing? Or was it because maybe Jesse had an attitude towards sex that was even looser than his clothes?

 

Clothes that Jesse was taking off now. Well technically just his sweater, which he was unzipping and shrugging off his shoulders. Walt was surprised it had taken him this long. Even with the windows of the bar open, the night air coming in was _hot_.

 

 Jesse seemed to have the same thought and he stretched and stood up.

 

“Getting a smoke,” he said before Walt could ask. “Get another pitcher,” he ordered Walt with a grin, and loped across the room, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his lighter.

 

Walt saw something fall from his pocket and quickly got up, ignoring the way his head was spinning, so he could retrieve whatever it was before it could be lost in the crowd of feet. He teetered slightly on his feet. He didn’t think he’d drunk this much since college.

 

Getting over there and picking it up he realized it was Jesse’s room key. Shaking his head slightly he slipped it into his pocket. He stopped quickly into the men’s room, given that he’d been drinking a _lot._ On his way back out he snagged their waitress so he could relay Jesse’s order. And pushing the front door open he stepped out onto the porch so he could find Jesse and give him his key.

 

The warm breeze immediately engulfed him and he took a deep breath. This town was far out enough so that the stars were completely visible, even with this glare from the bar’s porch lights.

 

He looked up and down the porch between its occupants, seeing Jesse leaning against the railing at the other end, chatting animatedly with a girl in a high ponytail, one of few people around his age in the place. She was nodding her head along to whatever he was saying, laughing.

 

Walt looked around the rest of the porch. And sure enough, there was her boyfriend, glaring at them from a table of their friends. Evidently she’d gone over to bum a smoke.

 

Walt could have told him he had nothing to worry about, that Jesse wasn’t flirting, he was just like that with everyone. Hell, there’d been a second back in the bar where it had probably looked like Jesse was flirting with _him_.

 

But not wanting Mr. Tall Dark and Scowling to intervene before him, Walt headed over.

 

He nodded at the girl and glanced down at Jesse.

 

“I ordered another pitcher,” he said awkwardly.

 

“Thanks for the smoke,” the girl grinned, walking back over to her table.

 

Jesse reached into his pack of cigarettes, shaking out another, which he then lit.

 

Walt caught the whiff of something that was decidedly _not_ tobacco.

 

“What?” Jesse said, taking a drag.

 

Walt watched the smoke curl out from between Jesse’s lips and was hit by its acrid scent.

 

Well…as long as Walt was _drinking_ like he was still a college student…

 

“You got another one of those?”

 

Jesse raised his eyebrows. But he handed his own joint over to Walt.

 

“So he asks this time,” Jesse muttered, but he was smiling.

 

Walt took a deep pull and held the smoke in his lungs, imagining it was burning away the cancer. Yeah, because that was totally how that worked.

 

He handed it back over to Jesse, coughing slightly.

 

“You should be more discreet about that,” he said, eyes stinging.

 

“How’s that?” Jesse asked, mumbling around the paper clutched between his lips. He inhaled and threw his head back, blowing a stream of smoke up towards the ceiling.

 

Walt shrugged and reached for the joint, which Jesse was now passing back. “What you smoke where,” he said, taking another drag. This one burned less and he could feel it swirling pleasantly inside him. “Taking out one of these in an unfamiliar town. You should just be more careful.”

 

“Yeah I’ll remember that the next time I take out my wallet and start flashing hundred dollar bills everywhere,” Jesse snorted, plucking back the joint.

 

“Didn’t hear you complaining,” Walt said a bit hazily, watching the tip of the rolled paper smolder as Jesse drew from it, a bright burning spark against the night sky.

 

“That’s ‘cause I paid for the motel,” Jesse grinned easily, teeth flashing. He held the joint out again. Walt accepted it.

 

They passed it back and forth under the porch light, not saying anything else, just smoking and listening to the crickets combined with the music from inside the bar. Finally Jesse held out the burning stub to Walt, offering it. Walt shook his head and Jesse took the last pull, and flicked it off the porch, and they both headed back inside.

 

Walt didn’t miss the way the girl’s boyfriend watched Jesse, eyes glaring a hole in his back.

 

They got back to their table and collapsed into their seats. Jesse stood up immediately though, swaying slightly. He gripped the table.

 

“Oh shit!” he said, eyes lit up. “I didn’t pick a song yet.” And he was off, weaving between the bar’s occupants, over towards the jukebox.

 

Walt chuckled and picked up his glass to take a swallow, and realized it was empty. He looked around for their waitress, just as Jesse was sliding back into his chair looking pleased with himself.

 

Walt was about to ask what he’d chosen when he heard an unmistakable drumbeat, followed by the twanging slide of a guitar.

 

“Steely _Dan_?” he asked in disbelief.

 

“I figured you’d know them,” Jesse said.

 

“I wouldn’t have figured _you_ know them,” Walt said, still looking at him incredulously, mellowing somewhat from the strains of jazz-fusion being pumped out into the room. He thought back to a semi-recent conversation he’d had with Junior, who’d blithely ignored Walt’s music suggestions.

 

“I like some of their stuff,” Jesse shrugged nonchalantly, but he looked pleased at Walt’s reaction.

 

_…way back when…in sixty-seven…_

Man this song took Walt back. He’d have been twenty-one when it first came out, younger than Jesse.

 

_…hey nineteen…no we can’t dance together…_

Walt snapped out of his trance just as their waitress set down a plate of nachos, cheese melting all over, spices hitting Walt’s sinuses in a delicious way.

 

“I’ll be back in a minute with your pitcher, boys,” she said, and Walt slid her another bill in thanks. She winked at him. This was one barmaid who wouldn’t be complaining about her tips tonight.

 

“Oh sweet!” Jesse exclaimed. “You get this?” he asked Walt.

 

“Mmm hmm,” Walt answered. He’d guessed Jesse would probably approve of the choice.

 

Jesse beamed at him, confirming his theory. He grabbed a chip from off the top, cheese pulling away as it broke free from the rest of the pile. He popped it into his mouth, wincing momentarily because it was still too hot, but then closed his eyes in bliss, swaying slightly to the groove of the song he’d chosen.

 

_…please take me along when you slide on down…_

Walt wondered if Jesse knew this song was about inappropriate age differences. Or maybe he _did_ know and it was some abstract, roundabout way of teasing Walt.

 

Jesus. Walt had a hard enough time wondering what went on in Jesse’s head when he was sober.

 

_…she thinks I’m crazy, but I’m just growing old, hey nineteen…_

Walt was probably reading too much into it.

 

 The waitress returned with a pitcher, which she set in front of them. Jesse grabbed Walt’s glass and held it at an angle while he poured beer into it. He straightened out the glass just as he was pulling up the pitcher, leaving the perfect amount of head.

 

_…no we got nothing in common, no we can’t talk at all…_

Jesse slid the glass across the table to Walt and poured one for himself. He held it up. He opened his mouth, seeming to hesitate. His lips then curled up slightly.

 

“To Academia,” he said, rolling the word off his tongue.

 

Walt’s head snapped up. Jesse’s eyes were burning into his.

 

Had Walt heard that right? Unless Jesse was kidding Walt again…

 

He looked at Jesse who was wearing a half-smile that suggested cocky self-assurance. But his eyes looked decidedly less confident as they took in Walt’s considering gaze, while Walt wondered what the hell Jesse was playing at.

 

_…it’s hard times befallen the sole survivors…_

Walt cleared his throat and reached slowly for the glass in front of him. Jesse licked his lips nervously while he waited for some kind of response from Walt.

 

Walt lifted his own glass and hesitated, eyes flicking to Jesse’s. He might have been drunk but he wasn’t too drunk to notice the way Jesse swallowed tightly. The music seemed to be sucked into the background, the volume in the room becoming a dull roar.

 

And he lightly touched the lip of his glass to Jesse’s with a dull _clink_ , leaving it there.

 

“Academia,” he said lightly and he watched Jesse’s cheeks flood with colour. He pulled his glass back and took a long swallow, heart hammering.

 

_…no we can’t dance together…no we can’t talk at all…_

 

He put the glass down, flicking away a speck of foam with his tongue. He glanced at Jesse who hadn’t drunk yet, and was instead staring at Walt, eyes wide.

 

Walt looked at him over his glasses.

 

“Yes?”

 

Jesse just looked down, and then back up at Walt, eyes lidded. And huffing out a laugh to himself he finally took a swallow of beer, keeping eye contact with Walt the whole time.

 

Well this was fairly insane.

 

Jesse was probably just messing with Walt. All his uncertainty about his girlfriend or whoever she was, mixed with Walt having shared an anecdote that would have given Jesse ample ammunition for teasing.

 

Add that to the cocktail of substances racing through their veins, throw in the giddy sensation of having a night off, mix that with Walt’s impending demise…

 

Walt was willing to bet that Jesse was just taking advantage of the situation to see if he could get Walt all flustered. Riled up. Why Jesse was trying to play Walt in the first place, Walt couldn’t say. Drunkenness? Curiosity? A misplaced need for attention?

 

If Jesse was actually flirting with him, Walt didn’t mind.

 

 It wasn’t like Walt would be sticking around long enough for it to be awkward anyways.

 

The music hit an instrumental break, filling the room with its groove. People were bobbing their heads easily along, a pulsing tide of rhythm. Walt took another sip of his drink and the cold beer slipped easily over the back of his throat. Jesse was watching him with a heated expression and Walt would be lying if he said he wasn’t transfixed by it. He suddenly felt a bit lightheaded, skin thrumming with a staccato energy that smoothed out into a steady hum.

 

“There he is.”

 

Walt was jolted abruptly out of his daze. He looked up to see the guy from outside standing over their table, accompanied by one of his buddies. They both seemed drunk, drunker than Walt, and were looking at Jesse with faces that didn’t bode well for him.

 

Jesse tore his gaze away from Walt and glanced at them, confused.

 

“Yo?” he offered. A muscle twitched in the guy’s face.

 

“You were talking with Gabby, man, I saw you,” he said, clenching his hand.

 

“Who?” said Jesse slowly, looking at Walt completely bemused. Walt jerked his head in the direction of the porch and understanding dawned on Jesse’s face.

 

“It’s cool man, I was just giving her a cigarette,” Jesse laughed.

 

Walt flinched, knowing it was no use, that this guy was spoiling for a fight anyways, and if he and Jesse hadn’t rolled into town this guy would have been approaching someone else in the bar at this time of night, with an equally pathetic excuse.

 

“Bullshit,” said the guy’s hanger-on. “He’s full of it, Shane.”

 

His leader – Shane – leaned over their table. “We think you should come with us, asshole,” he said to Jesse, eyes glinting in excitement at words he’d probably been hoping to say all night.

 

“And I think you and your girlfriend should beat it,” Walt said from the other side of the table. He spoke amiably but his pulse was thudding suddenly, drowning out the music and the chatter around them.

 

“What was that?” Shane said, looking over at Walt, who he’d barely noticed before. “Yo, stay out of this, old man.”

 

“You hard of hearing?” Walt asked, still speaking lightly, which probably riled the guy up more. “Get lost.”

 

Jesse’s head was swinging back and forth between them like he was watching tennis. Walt was both ignoring Jesse and hugely aware of him watching his next move.

 

It was more intoxicating than the tequila.

 

“Yo, man, you want to back off,” Shane said loudly. People around them were starting to stare. He gave Walt a grin. “I’m going when I’m good and god damn ready to.”

 

He reached onto their table, pulling away a handful of their nachos, which he then stuffed in his face, as though proving his point.

 

“Well then I’ll call the waitress,” Walt said easily. “And she can bring you a dog bowl for that.”

 

Shane choked and flushed angrily, eyes flashing at Walt.

 

“After I kick his ass, you’re next, grandpa” he said, a vein popping in his forehead.

 

Walt stood up instantly, his chair falling back with a clatter, his genial expression wiping off his face. The people around them fell silent.

 

He put his face right in front of this guy’s, whose face was beet red as he watched Walt get closer.

 

“You’re not even getting near him,” Walt said slowly, deliberately, shaking with the rage that had rushed to the surface, and that he was just barely keeping locked down.

 

“Oh yeah?” the guy spat. Walt registered Jesse out of the corner of his eye, saw him leaning forward.

 

“Want me to spell it out for you? Or can you even spell, imbecile?” Walt mocked. “Over. My. Dead. Body.”

 

Walt whirled away abruptly, sweeping his hand towards the nachos on the table in one motion.

 

“Want some more?” he asked pleasantly.

 

The guy had one second to look confused.

 

And then Walt was slamming the entire platter into his face.

 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Shane screamed, scrabbling at his eyes which were burning from the cheese that was still scalding.

 

Walt kicked him swiftly in the kneecap. It buckled, and he went down hard.

 

“It fucking _burns_ ,” he yelled, still clutching his eyes.

 

“Here let me help,” Walt said through clenched teeth, reaching for the pitcher of beer. And he launched it forward, splashing the rest of its contents into his face, drenching him. And in one move he swung the empty pitcher up and brought it careening down, cracking it over the guy’s head, who then slumped in a heap on the floor. He didn’t get up.

 

Walt whirled to face his buddy who was standing with a shocked expression. The guy’s hand went to his pocket.

 

Just then the bartender came over, tailed by Walt and Jesse’s waitress.

 

“Think it’s time to go, fellas,” he said to Walt calmly, looking at Shane on the floor. He looked back at Walt, a bit apologetically.

 

Walt understood. From the bartender’s perspective, Walt was someone who’d been tipping and behaving well all night. But still, he was from out of town and this guy was a regular, however unpopular he seemed to be, judging by the way none of the other patrons had intervened. Some of the older men in the place were even nodding approvingly at Walt.

 

“Not a problem,” Walt said, knowing the bartender couldn’t afford to side with Walt, however regretfully he was telling him to go. He glanced at Jesse whose eyes were practically popping out of his face.

 

Walt mouthed ‘sweater’ at him and Jesse snapped out of it, jumping to his feet and grabbing his hoodie.

 

Walt threw another hundred dollars on the table. He nodded at their waitress who was peering at him from over the bartender’s shoulder.

 

“Sorry about the mess,” he said.

 

She gave him a cheery wave, holding back a smile.

 

Jesse gave him a questioning look and Walt gestured for him to leave first. Jesse headed to the door.

 

Walt went to follow suit but found his way blocked by the second goon.

 

They stared at each other. Walt smiled.

 

“Excuse me,” he said, making sure to shove roughly past him.

 

And he followed Jesse out the door.

 

                                                      ***

 

 “You. Are fucking. Insane,” Jesse gasped, laughing.

 

They were stumbling back down main street which was pitch black and deserted by now, the only light coming from the sparsely arranged streetlamps.

 

The adrenaline had worn off and their drunkenness had caught up to them, both tripping down the sidewalk, bumping off each other.

 

“Yeah yeah,” Walt said grinning, his head still buzzing.

 

“Mr. _White_ ,” Jesse yelled. “That was fucking _badass_ ,” he hooted, and collapsed into Walt, grabbing his elbow for balance.

 

“Oh was it now?” asked Walt a bit giddy.

 

“ _Dude_ ,” said Jesse emphatically. “The way you just – _bam_. And then he – _boom_. And then I was like – what the _fuck_ ,” he burst out laughing. He let go of Walt’s arm to imitate Walt throwing a plate of nachos and then instantly lost his balance. Walt caught him before he could fall forwards. Jesse giggled in Walt’s arms.

 

The continued staggering along the sidewalk, walking past a chain-link fence that was blocking off a junkyard. Jesse tore himself away from Walt.

 

“Hold up,” he said and he stumbled over to the fence, leaning against it, hand going to his fly.

 

Walt waited while Jesse relieved himself, glancing up the street where he could still make out the brightly lit bar. If he closed his eyes he could still hear the muffled jukebox.

 

He looked back at Jesse who was done, and was now leaning with his back against the fence, still panting, glee written all over his face.

 

He looked at Walt, pointed at him and mouthed ‘insane’ and then started giggling again.

 

Walt rolled his eyes and walked towards him, leaning against the fence himself.

 

“Thanks, by the way,” he said closing his eyes.

 

“Whaffor?” Jesse slurred out between giggles.

 

Walt shrugged. “Suggesting this.”

 

“Had fun?”

 

Walt hummed not wanting Jesse to get _too_ self-satisfied. “Yeah for a cancer patient, not bad.” He laughed in disbelief.

 

He opened his eyes to see Jesse staring at him, any hint of delight sapped from his face.

 

“Sorry,” said Walt giving half-hearted jazz hands to lighten the mood.

 

Jesse was watching Walt with a pained expression.

 

“I don’t want you to die, Mr. White,” he said softly, the words rushed. He swallowed.

 

Walt twisted his head at him in surprise. Jesse was looking earnestly back at him.

 

Everyone kind of tiptoed around it, never mentioning it to Walt straight up. But didn’t any reaction to his cancer all come down right down to this? Skyler weighing options, Junior calling him a pussy, Marie organizing CAT scans and Hank going off on baseball metaphors, weren’t they all just saying the same thing?

 

_I don’t want you to die._

 

Walt felt a sudden heaviness in his heart and looked at Jesse achingly. Jesse took a step towards him.

 

They were staring at each other so intently they didn’t notice Shane’s friend from the bar until he was right in front of them.

 

“Hey,” he said hotly.

 

Walt and Jesse looked over at him. He was breathing heavily after having caught up to them, shoulders heaving, a livid expression. Fuck.

 

“Think I’m done with you, you fucker?” he said. He was addressing Walt, but Walt stepped slightly in front of Jesse anyways.

 

“I don’t think of you at all,” Walt said.

 

“You called Shane a dog, man,” he said. “I’m gonna teach you some manners.”

 

He spat out the last word and put his hand in his pocket. Panic immediately flooded his face. He checked his other pocket, and frantically started patting his coat down.

 

“Looking for this?” Walt asked, drawing out the switchblade he’d lifted off of him back when they left the bar. He flicked it open.

 

The guy took a step back, blood draining from his face. Jesse looked at the knife then back to Walt.

 

Walt stared at the guy, fingers curled around the handle of the blade. He took a moment to glance at Jesse who was watching Walt uneasily.

 

Walt looked back at the guy. And then he swung around and launched the blade over the high fence where it landed with a clatter in the junkyard on the other side.

 

“Go fetch,” he said. And he grabbed Jesse by the wrist and they took off down the road, feet pounding against the pavement, not looking back.

 

They didn’t let up until they reached the motel with its blinking neon signs. Jesse ran ahead of Walt, running past the row of doors, stopping at theirs where he fumbled, looking for his key that he’d dropped earlier.

 

Walt tossed him the key and Jesse miraculously caught it and stuck it into the lock. He opened the door right as Walt ran in, feet thudding. Jesse jumped in after him, slamming the door shut behind him and locking it with a _click_.

 

“You are _crazy_ ,” he yelled at Walt, panting for breath, collapsed against the door laughing. “Is this a genetic thing with you? ‘Go fetch’ oh my fucking _God_ ,” he laughed. “Seriously you have to warn me before you –“

 

– he was cut off by Walt’s mouth over his, kissing him desperately.

 

Walt worked Jesse’s mouth open, one hand tangled in the collar of his shirt as he savored the softness of his lips. He slipped his tongue into Jesse’s mouth, running it along the inside, getting the taste of beer, smoke and skin.

 

Walt finally drew back, his pulse thumping, blood, alcohol, adrenaline, all careening through his veins as he took in Jesse with his lips flushed, breathing heavily against the door.

 

Jesse reached up to touch his mouth and Walt watched him uncertainly.

 

And then Jesse fixed him with a swift grin, lifting an eyebrow in a way that seemed to say:

 

_Is that it?_

 

Walt growled, and grabbing the sides of Jesse’s face he brought their lips together again, kissing him furiously. Jesse laughed into his mouth and it quickly turned into a moan when Walt slid his tongue against his.

 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jesse gasped, breathless from having run down the street, breathless from Walt’s hand which was now slipping around to his back, pulling them closer together.

 

Jesse wound his arms around Walt’s neck and opened his mouth, giving Walt more room. Walt felt Jesse’s fingers digging into the back of his neck.

 

This absolutely insane, what the hell did Walt think he was doing.

 

It was one thing to sit there and let Jesse flirt heatedly though harmlessly with him. It was quite another to have him arching against Walt, pressing insistently into his hips while sighing against his mouth, fingers losing a bit of their grip at each slide of their tongues…

 

Walt groaned and broke off, drawing back.

 

“Wait – Jesse,” he gasped.

 

Jesse drew back confused. Walt could see he was hard, and he had to resist the urge to grip himself through his clothes.

 

“This…this has been…very fun. But…”

 

His voice trailed off at Jesse who was walking languidly towards him. Jesse swayed a little but his eyes were bright and clear with purpose.

 

“What did I tell you, man?” he said, drawing out the words quietly, walking straight up to Walt, gently filling his space. “You gotta loosen up.”

 

Walt stood stock-still while Jesse's hands went to his belt. He didn’t say a word while Jesse slowly pulled it out of the loops, leather sliding easily over cloth.

 

He still didn’t say a thing while he let himself be pushed over to Jesse’s bed, sitting down as the mattress hit the backs of his knees. Jesse unhooked the front of Walt’s pants while kneeling down on the carpet, and Walt’s breath hitched as Jesse drew him out.

 

Jesse glanced up at Walt who was watching him with his eyes blown wide, chest heaving. Jesse flashed a grin at him.

 

“You’ll thank me,” he said for the second time that night.

 

“Wanna bet?” Walt murmured again. And his eyes fell closed as Jesse’s mouth sunk down over his cock.

 

Oh _fuck_.

 

Walt trembled at the wet heat surrounding him. Oh my _God_ , this was too good.

 

How in the hell had they gotten to a point where Jesse was kneeling between his legs, sliding his hands along the length of his thighs, lips curling softly around him, tasting him, mouthing at him…Walt choked as Jesse took him in deeper.

 

What the hell. If Walt was about to sign off he might as well make the most of it.

 

Although cooking was about to become extremely awkward tomorrow.

 

But when Jesse flicked his tongue lightly against his shaft, the image of the RV immediately dissolved, and all of Walt’s focus went to his cock which Jesse was sliding his tongue around in slow, leisurely circles as he tightened his lips, pulling them up off Walt’s length.

 

Walt looked down in disappointment when he felt the cool air hit his skin.

 

“Why’d you stop?” he gasped. He meant to say it sternly but it came off as more desperate.

 

Jesse looked at him innocently.

 

“Oh I don’t know, I thought you might want to rethink this again,” he said, laughter bubbling beneath his easy tone. “I can give you a minute, I really don’t mind, I mean if you still think you’d better not -“

 

Walt reached out to grab Jesse roughly by the back of his head, drawing him back between his legs.

 

“Smartass,” he sighed, and he felt Jesse laugh against his lap before running his tongue along the length of Walt’s cock, tracing its outline before enveloping him with his mouth again.

 

Walt gripped the mattress, getting close to being out of his mind with arousal. Jesse’s tongue stroked him broadly, as his lips rubbed Walt, dragging against him with every pull of his mouth.

 

His wet, hot mouth that was sucking Walt off, bit by excruciating bit, oh fuck fuck _fuck_.

 

Walt gasped and threw his head back. He thought back for a second to the magazine he’d opened in this room. The cheap, dry, fantasy he’d tried to build up with barely any effort whatsoever.

 

It couldn’t be further from having Jesse’s head buried between his legs in the here and now, fingers digging into his thighs, lips squeezing Walt between them, tongue sliding over him in agonizing strokes, taking him deeper and deeper into the tight heat of his mouth…

 

Walt couldn’t resist sliding a hand through Jesse’s hair, cupping the side of his head lightly.

 

 Jesse pulled off to gasp and rub his jaw against Walt. The scrape of his stubble over Walt’s wet, tender skin had Walt seeing stars.

 

Just then Jesse was scrambling to his feet, standing over Walt. Walt looked up in time to see Jesse’s hoodie dropping to the floor and Jesse pulling his shirt up over his head.

 

He looked down at Walt hungrily and Walt felt himself grow even harder, if possible.

 

“Take your clothes off,” Jesse ordered, eyes glittering over him.

 

Walt felt a heat unfurling in his gut and he swallowed as he began to unhook the buttons of his shirt, anticipation building with each one.

 

Once he’d shrugged off the rest of his clothes completely he was being pushed back against the bed by an extremely naked Jesse. Jesse leaned over Walt, his bare skin standing out starkly against the shadows of the room.

 

Running a hand up Jesse’s chest, Walt felt a bit dazed. He reached out with his other hand to flick on the lamp in between the motel’s two beds. It filled the room with a dim red, seedy glow that washed over Jesse’s pale skin.

 

Jesse hovered above Walt tantalizingly, knees braced on either side of Walt’s hips. He was completely hard and his cock was leaving wet, shining stripes on his stomach. Walt reached up to rub his thumb and the moisture into Jesse’s hipbone and Jesse’s eyes fluttered shut.

 

And splaying his hands over Walt’s chest he slowly ground their hips together.

 

Walt lay back, gasping out a stream of broken curses. Jesse smiled down at him fuzzily, rolling his hips forward again.

 

Oh God Walt was so warm where they fit together and his fingers tightened on Jesse’s hips, pulling him down harder. Jesse panted and ground down on top of Walt in slow, pulsing circles, and moaned, the hottest sound Walt had ever heard.

 

Walt couldn’t even remember the last time he’d had sex while drunk. He couldn’t think of anything outside Jesse’s hips rubbing sweetly, desperately into his, Jesse gasping for breath above him, eyes clenched shut.

 

He had a flash of Jesse back at the bar, laughing helplessly at Walt, eyes sparkling as Walt said ‘academia.’

 

Walt let out a low laugh now, and Jesse looked down at him, sweat beginning to bead across his collarbones.

 

Walt tugged him down closer and ran his tongue over Jesse’s chest, tasting him, letting the salty moisture of sweat on skin fill his senses. He then tilted his head back and caught Jesse’s lips in another deep, desperate kiss.

 

Jesse started to giggle and he slid his arms underneath Walt’s back, and rolled them over onto their sides, kissing him back and slinging a leg over Walt’s hip, rutting up into him.

 

They lay like that, thrusting against each other, hands running everywhere, fingers tracing sweat-soaked skin, mouths locked and burning together. The cheap motel lamp flickered, a truck horn sounded off in the distance, someone in the motel was watching TV with the volume down low.

 

It was the best sex Walt had ever had.

 

But it was going to be over too quickly if Walt didn’t change it up.

 

He pulled away from Jesse, who let out a sound of complaint. Walt just smirked as he edged over the head of the mattress. He adjusted the pillows and leaned back against them, head propped up. He beckoned to Jesse who immediately scrambled over, kneeling on top of Walt.

 

Walt reached out to pull Jesse’s hips forward until they were flush with his face. Jesse’s hips were quivering and Walt placed a broad hand on them to still him. And tongue darting out he painted a long stripe on the underside of Jesse’s cock.

 

Jesse whined and clutched the headboard.

 

Walt pulled Jesse’s hips away so he could close his mouth over the tip of Jesse’s cock. He sucked it lightly.

 

“Ohhh my God, man,” Jesse gasped, hips stuttering. “Is this you showing me how it’s done or something?”

 

Walt hummed around the head of Jesse’s cock in amusement and drew off, bringing a hand up to cup Jesse’s balls. Jesse hissed and Walt’s eyes glinted devilishly.

 

“That would be me doing _this_ ,” he said, squeezing Jesse’s balls _hard_ while simultaneously taking down Jesse’s entire length deep into his throat.

 

“Fucking – _hell_ ,” Jesse choked out, fingers tightening on the headboard as Walt pulled off. “Do that again.”

 

“Mmm I don’t know, should I?” Walt teased him, small revenge for Jesse doing the same earlier. He cradled Jesse’s balls again, rolling them together.

 

“Oh my God, shut up, shut up, shut _up_ ,” Jesse laughed, hips thrusting in front of Walt’s mouth.

 

“Why don’t you make me, Jesse?” Walt asked lightly.

 

Jesse leaned back and looked down at Walt in confusion. Walt raised an eyebrow at him.

 

And scooting further down the bed he pulled Jesse’s hips along with him until he was lying a little more on his back, head propped up on the pillows, with Jesse’s hips hovering over his mouth while Jesse braced himself on the headboard.

 

Walt leaned forward a bit to rub his teeth lightly over the tip of Jesse’s cock. Jesse let out a keening sound above him. Then Walt closed his lips over Jesse, pulling Jesse further into his mouth.

 

Jesse thrust instinctively into Walt’s mouth but then pulled back as though in apology.

 

But that was exactly what Walt wanted. And he pulled Jesse’s hips forward again and leaned back against the pillows, removing his hands from Jesse’s hips.

 

Then Jesse caught on and groaned in realization and arousal. Walt felt him grow even harder in his mouth and oh my _God_ , that was hot.

 

Walt relaxed his mouth and Jesse knelt there panting heavily for a few moments. And then he drew back and slid all the way back into Walt’s mouth. Hard.

 

Walt’s hands flew to Jesse’s hips, stretching his fingers to squeeze and cup the softer flesh behind them.

 

“Oh fuck yes,” Jesse gasped, letting his head fall forward to his chest. And shaking it as though in disbelief as to how he’d gotten there, he pulled back and thrust into him again, cock dragging over the roof of Walt’s mouth.

 

Jesse’s cock felt unbelievably heavy as it slid over Walt’s tongue. Walt’s jaw ached but it ached so _good_. Every thrust of Jesse’s was more delicious than the last, as Jesse continued to hit the back of his throat while he fucked Walt’s face enthusiastically.

 

Walt hummed approvingly, lifting his tongue, rubbing the bottom of Jesse’s cock with it.

 

Jesse swore and bucked forwards, harder than before.

 

Walt dug his fingers into Jesse’s skin, spurring him on. Whenever he closed off Walt’s throat completely, cutting off his air, it sent sparks to Walt’s brain, nerve-endings lighting up and firing off in bursts of energy that made Walt feel more alive than he had in months.

 

He felt pre-come leaking out onto his tongue, thick and bitter and heady. Jesse’s cock slid easily over it and when Walt closed his lips to suck Jesse tighter he felt another burst of wetness from Jesse’s cock.

 

It was surreal having Jesse in his mouth with Jesse thrusting above him. It was almost a disconnect, seeing what pushing which buttons would do. Suck Jesse _here_ , hear him curse up _there_. Swirl his tongue _there_ , feel Jesse quivering _here_.

 

It was exhilarating.

 

But he pushed Jesse back. Not roughly and not because he wanted to stop. But it wasn’t how he wanted to end it.

 

Jesse slid out of his mouth immediately, with a wet popping sound that was so obscene Walt didn’t know if he should laugh or moan.

 

He settled for edging out from under Jesse, licking his swollen lips that were sore in the best possible way.

 

“Hang on, you still got a –“ he heard Jesse say. And then Jesse’s head was ducking down to lick all along the line of Walt’s mouth, tracing his lips, curling his tongue to lick up any moisture left.

 

He pulled away from Walt’s mouth, pupils blown wide, breathing heavily. Walt felt the heat that had been building in his gut flare up into a full on furnace.

 

He sat up while grabbing Jesse’s shoulders and crushed their lips together, growling. Jesse’s hands scrabbled desperately over his back and he kissed Walt hungrily.

 

Walt wrapped his arms around Jesse’s slight frame, maneuvering him around so that his back was pressed flush against Walt’s chest. Walt bent down to kiss his neck and Jesse reached back to stroke Walt’s head.

 

Walt shuddered and pushed Jesse forward and Jesse landed on all fours on the mattress, breath coming raggedly.

 

Walt was kneeling behind him, staring at the lean expanse of Jesse’s back that was glistening with sweat. He ran a hand along the skin of Jesse’s back almost wonderingly. He curled over Jesse, licking between his shoulder blades, slowly running his tongue all the way down the ridges of his spine while Jesse quivered beneath him.

 

Walt straightened up and Jesse twisted his head back to look at him, still crouched on his hands and knees. He was panting, his eyes dark with lust. Walt felt himself beginning to leak from arousal.

 

Walt shuffled forward on his knees until his hips were directly behind Jesse. Jesse arched his back and bit his lip, sending Walt a smoldering look.

 

Walt briefly considered just…just _plunging_ into Jesse, driving into him with no warning, taking him apart, turning him into a writhing mess.

 

Walt took a breath and pulled himself together. It wasn’t like he had the supplies or current dexterity to manage that anyways.

 

So Walt lined himself up just below Jesse’s entrance. He gripped Jesse by the hips and lightly slapped his leg, indicating that Jesse should squeeze his legs together. And positioning himself properly, Walt then _slid_ between Jesse’s thighs, cock pushing forward over Jesse’s balls, grazing the base of Jesse’s cock.

 

Both gasped at the sensation.

 

“Oh my – Mr. _White_ ,” Jesse let out a high needy whine, hips bucking forward against nothing. “Do it again, do it again.”

 

Walt pulled back, immediately missing the tight warmth of Jesse’s thighs pressing against both sides of his cock.

 

So he thrust forward again between the soft skin, sliding easily over the sweat there. Walt groaned at the feeling of his cock rubbing the underside of Jesse’s. Jesse was no better off and was swearing beneath Walt. He squeezed his thighs together harder and Walt practically fainted.

 

“Oh fuck, Jesse,” he rasped out. “So good.” And Jesse made a noise that was something close to a sob.

 

Walt thrust into the soft space again and again, fucking in between the tight line of Jesse’s thighs, sliding against slick sweat on the way in, pulling against soft skin on the way out.

 

They hit a rhythm of Walt bucking forward and Jesse squeezing, and it didn’t take long for it to deteriorate.

 

“Fuck, Mr. White,” Jesse whimpered when Walt’s cock pushed under his again. “I’m – I’m so close, _fuck_.”

 

Walt snaked a hand under Jesse’s chest, pulling him up so they were both kneeling, chest to back, and fucked harder between his thighs. The change in angle combined with Jesse’s thigh muscles rippling over his cock with the shift was making his head spin.

 

Jesse tilted his head back towards Walt, mouth opening. Walt bent forward to catch his lips, kissing him hard. He continued to thrust forward, timing the thrusts of his hips with his tongue into Jesse’s mouth. Jesse was a quivering mess underneath Walt’s mouth, limbs practically jelly.

 

Walt ran his hand down Jesse’s chest while he kissed him, fingers dragging over his sternum, dipping into his navel, reaching down to close around Jesse’s cock.

 

Jesse immediately reached down, covering Walt’s hand with his own.

 

“Oh yeah just like that,” he gasped against Walt’s mouth, even though Walt wasn’t doing anything more complicated than squeezing him and pulling in slow, simple strokes.

 

They stayed like that, Jesse hand on Walt’s, Walt’s hand stroking Jesse, his own thrusts getting messier while their mouths moved together.

 

Suddenly Jesse was twisting around and Walt’s hand fell away. He faced Walt and kissed him again, desperately. He fell back on the bed and pulled Walt over on top of him. His hand went to Walt’s cock.

 

“Wanna see you come,” he whispered and Walt shuddered, a low groan tearing its way out of his chest. Walt thrust frantically into the tight space of Jesse’s hand which Jesse squeezed around him.

 

Jesse leaned up to kiss him, letting go of Walt’s cock so he could cup Walt’s face, working his mouth open, slipping in his tongue. He lifted his legs to wrap them around Walt’s hips.

 

Walt thrust forcefully down on top of him, their bare cocks dragging together. Jesse cried out and Walt closed his eyes, relishing the sound. He was so turned on, god he was so close.

 

“Look at me,” he heard Jesse say in a strangled voice.

 

And he opened his eyes to see Jesse’s burning right back at his. Jesse’s lips parted and every one of his muscles went taut, trembling. Walt bent down to push their lips together and he felt Jesse spilling in steady, pulsing bursts, coating both Walt’s cock and his own stomach.

 

“God, Jesse,” Walt groaned, sliding his cock over Jesse’s, the sensation heightened by the added slickness.

 

And bending his head down and burying his head into Jesse’s neck he thrust harder and harder against Jesse’s hips, mind narrowing down to the press of Jesse’s softening cock into his, the slide of Jesse’s skin, Jesse’s fingers digging into his skull, Jesse’s lips burning against his cheek, Jesse, Jesse, Jesse –

 

“ _Jesse_ ,” he cried out, flooded by the force of his orgasm.

 

It felt like he was coming forever, pulsing over and over against Jesse in agonizing bursts, burning up from the inside out, Jesse rubbing his back desperately, his murmured words of encouragement a soothing balm.

 

Walt shook as the last of his orgasm dripped out of him achingly. He brought his head up from where it was buried in the crook of Jesse’s neck and stared at Jesse, panting heavily.

 

“Jesus,” he gasped. “Oh Jesus Christ.”

 

“Shhh,” Jesse said, still rubbing circles into Walt’s back, pupils blown wide. Walt’s head collapsed onto Jesse’s chest, where he took rapid, ragged breaths. How he hadn’t had a coughing fit during all that he had no clue.

 

He felt Jesse sliding out from under him and getting up, to pad lightly towards the bathroom. He heard the tap running but he barely registered it, falling against the sheets that were still warm where Jesse had been lying. They smelled like sex. Walt resisted the urge to bury his face into them and take a deep breath.

 

Jesse was walking back towards the bed from the bathroom, wiping himself off with a towel. Walt wondered deliriously if it was the one from Jesse’s shower or from his.

 

When Jesse got to the bed he tossed it at Walt who managed to snag it, still a little out of it. He did the same as Jesse and quickly wiped himself down. When he let the towel fall to the floor he noticed Jesse was holding out a glass of water for him, which Walt chugged gratefully.

 

Walt flashed back to just this morning in the RV. Jesse had been persuading him to drink water then as well, practically having to bully him into it.

 

It felt like years ago.

 

Walt placed the empty glass on the table between the two beds. He caught sight of the one he’d claimed earlier and wondered for a brief moment if he should go back over there to sleep, what the right move was.

 

But Jesse was already sliding in next to him. Walt rolled over to face him. Jesse’s skin was still flushed, his breathing still heavy, but his eyes twinkled brightly at him.

 

“So admit it, yo,” he drawled, kicking Walt’s foot.

 

“Admit what exactly?” Walt raised his eyebrow.

 

“Come on,” Jesse said, a grin spreading over his face. “Admit that I have some pretty awesome ideas.”

 

Walt snorted and Jesse’s smile wavered slightly in uncertainty. Walt rolled his eyes and kicked Jesse back.

 

“Yes, Jesse” he said with an exasperation he didn’t feel even remotely. “You have the occasional good idea.”

 

Jesse shook his head at Walt but his smile was back in the blink of an eye. “Uh, ‘good’ is an understatement,” he said, flopping back against the mattress, laughing to himself.

 

That was for sure.

 

It was unbelievable, Walt thought, as he reached over to turn off the lamp, feeling Jesse roll over to press up against him.

 

Walt leaned back slinging an arm comfortably around Jesse’s shoulders, which wasn’t as awkward as it should have been. But then again he was still quite dazed. Jesse curled in closer and Walt shifted to better accommodate him, stroking his hair lightly. He closed his eyes.

 

‘Good’ didn’t even begin to cover it.

 

Because at some point in between throwing back shots with Jesse, running down the street with a hand clasped around Jesse’s wrist, kissing Jesse’s burning lips, being pinned to damp sheets while Jesse rolled on top of him, his skin lit up in a neon glow, eyes flashing in technicolour bursts, taking Walt apart bit by exquisite bit, making Walt forget his reserve, forget the world, forget his own name…

 

For a few brief moments, well…

 

Walt almost forgot he was dying.


	2. Night 2

 

Ringing in his ears.

 

Heat everywhere.

 

Walt felt trapped like a fly under a glass. Sun was beating in through the sides of the glass, making his head spin, cooking him from the inside out. It was the world’s brightest, hottest MRI and a doctor’s voice was telling him not to move. Walt wanted to object but his throat was too dry.

 

The scene dissolved and Walt was still lying down. He felt a heat pricking at his back. Shifting slightly he realized he was on…on a barbecue?

 

Oh god Walt was so thirsty. The coals were heating his back, pleasant at first, then stinging the skin. Just over to the side was the pool of his backyard. Walt tried to extend a hand to it but his arm was trapped. So much cool liquid, pulsing, undulating…He wanted to dive in, splash headfirst into the water, let it stream through his eyes, fill him up, open his throat and let the water rush in down his throat.

 

It was too far to jump. But if he could just reach it, plunge a hand into the cool, rippling surface, scoop out a handful, lower his dry lips, suck it down, one washing mouthful at a time.

 

Something was pressing him down, stopping him. Someone’s hand, forcefully pushing against his chest. Out of the corner of his eye Walt caught a flash of metal. Was this the surgery, was Walt in surgery? But they weren’t supposed to…oh god what if he didn’t wake up?

 

 He craned his neck, and his vision whited out at what he saw: the skin of his torso hanging in folds, chest spread open, nothing but glistening, pulsating black inside. Standing out against the horrific sight, Walt could make out that the bright, sharp instrument was a pair of tongs. They descended slowly into the open cavity and Walt squeezed his eyes shut at the instant shock of cold, freezing metal being pressed against his organs. The instrument fumbled around inside of him, probing, invading the moist, gleaming ripples of black meat in Walt’s chest, searching for something…

 

Walt didn’t know what they were after but he knew instinctively they wouldn’t find it.

 

The tongs were wrenched from his chest in a swift movement that _hurt_ but was somehow a relief. Walt opened his eyes a sliver and light rushed in. A figure was standing over him and he felt the heat of the barbecue under his back flare up again. The grill was digging into his back, leaving scorching imprints. Sweat coated his skin, was beginning to drip off onto the coals under him. Walt could actually hear the sizzle of sweat hitting the coals and it made him nauseous. But he still couldn’t move. He felt himself beginning to panic with every searing flash of heat that further blistered the skin. This wasn’t how surgery was supposed to go. An autopsy maybe? Oh god what if he was already dead.

 

The figure over him swam into view again, blotting out the sun. It gave a halo effect around his head but Walt still couldn’t see who it was.

 

The metal was back at his chest, poking, pricking, separating and clamping down on the quivering black lumps inside of him. The figure’s other hand came into view, squeezing some sort of vitreous fluid all over Walt. It ran off his skin, and Walt knew if it hit the coals beneath him he’d be consumed in a whoosh of flames. This time Walt tried to shift himself, squirming, fighting back in his own immobile way, bile rising in his throat.

 

He wrenched himself to one side, the grill scraping the underside of his back, the open flaps of his chest shaking with the movement. This was good, if Walt could just _move_ his arms he could reach out, gently fold the hanging skin over the gaping cavity, hide the black inside him, get up and stagger away, holding the bits of himself together long enough to plunge into the pool…

 

The tongs slapped down on his chest, stopping Walt mid-thought. The figure moved to the side, out of the sun and Walt could make out his surgeon’s face.

 

Grotesquely, Walt actually _saw_ his heart stop in the gaping cavity of his chest before he felt it.

 

“ _Hank?_ ” he croaked, through dry, cracked lips.

 

Hank tossed the bottle of clear liquid to the side. He held the tongs over Walt’s chest again and smiled hugely while twirling them, the sun reflecting off of them, making his teeth gleam.

 

Walt tried to sit up, feeling sick. Hank’s hand stopped him, pushing him back down over the coals.

 

_Watch out, buddy. You’re burning the meat._

 

***

 

 Walt bolted upright in bed, coated in sweat from head to toe, head spinning and pulse racing.

 

He frantically grappled at his own chest, heart hammering loud enough to wake the dead.

 

He ran a hand along his chest, looking at the smooth expanse of unbroken skin, brushed over with hair.

 

One piece.

 

Thank god thank god thank god…

 

Walt eased back against the mattress, shaking all over. Oh Jesus…

 

He kept a hand on his chest, riveted by the rhythm of his heart thumping aggressively from the adrenaline. He was unable to even pull his hand away, as though the second he did it might stop.

 

Closing his eyes he sucked in a breath –

 

–  and immediately started hacking.

 

Throat rattling, lungs compressing he coughed violently into his hands.

 

And when he felt another hand reach out to touch his shoulder he almost had his second heart attack in about as many minutes.

 

Wrenching his head to the side he took stock of Jesse lying beside him, eyes blearily opening, hair sticking straight up and the sheet hanging loosely around his hips as he reached out towards Walt.

 

Oh.

 

Right.

 

 “You okay?” mumbled Jesse sleepily.

 

“Fine,” rasped Walt, his breathing starting to slow.

 

“Yeah because you look fantastic right now,” yawned Jesse, stretching loosely, sheet falling off. Walt determinedly avoided looking.

 

Jesse kind of threw a wrench in that plan when he swung his legs off the bed and got up to stride across the room towards the bathroom. Completely naked. Before he disappeared Walt caught a glimpse of a pale bruises, smattered across Jesse’s hips. He had a feeling they would match his fingers exactly.

 

Christ.

 

Walt closed his eyes as the images of last night rushed back to him, prepared for an onslaught of panic or regret.

 

It didn’t come.

 

Funny how when the images of your own chest being split open and to show your decaying organs are still fresh in your mind, it’s hard to build up much anxiety over an orgasm.

 

Even if said orgasm had happened while braced on top of – Walt swallowed – Jesse Pinkman.

 

Jesse walked back from the bathroom and Walt pretended to look at his watch so he wouldn’t have to look at Jesse.

 

Just because he wasn’t freaking out didn’t mean he had any idea whatsoever how to play this.

 

Jesse climbed back in next to Walt and immediately buried his face into his pillow, closing his eyes. Walt watched him dubiously. Jesse’s breathing gradually got slower and slower and slower –

 

“What are you doing?” Walt asked.

 

Jesse’s eyes flew open.

 

“What does it look like?”

 

“It looks like you’re going back to sleep.”

 

“You should be a scientist,” mumbled Jesse, lazily.

 

Walt’s lip quirked but he fought it down.

 

“Come on, it’s 7:00. There’s enough time to shower, get something to eat and head back out - ”

 

“Out _where_?” asked Jesse sceptically, eyeing Walt. He raised his chin off the pillow questioningly and Walt could make out a red mark on his throat. He had no idea when he’d sucked it into Jesse’s skin, if it was before or after he’d pushed him onto the mattress, knelt over him, licking his way along –

 

Walt shook his head, and the image dissolved.

 

“To cook. We can still get in a full day if we hurry.”

 

Jesse groaned. “You can’t possibly be serious right now. You _actually_ still want to cook? How are you not hungover?”

 

In actual fact Walt was more hungover than he’d ever felt in his life. He’d forgotten that weed combined with the drinking left you feeling perpetually breathless and with a head full of cotton. But he wasn’t about to admit it to Jesse.

 

“Come on, get up,” he said, starting to lean forward.

 

“Tell you what,” said Jesse, rolling over to face him, mischief glinting in his eyes. Walt didn’t like the look of it. “If you can make it to the bathroom without falling over we go cook right now. “

 

Walt raised an eyebrow. And swivelling sideways he planted his feet on the plush carpet and stood up.

 

He immediately lurched forward but managed to regain his balance. And ludicrously slowly he started placing one foot in front of the other like he was balancing on an invisible tightrope, swaying all the while.

 

He made it to the doorframe of the bathroom and turned around spreading his arms weakly.

 

“I win.”

 

Jesse snorted. “I’ve seen amputated strippers with more balance than you.”

 

“You’ve never seen an amputated stripper in your life,” Walt said, head still spinning. He checked his watch again. “You might as well start packing up while I shower.”

 

Jesse moaned and pulled the blanket up over his head. “I’m going to pretend you said ‘catch up on sleep while I shower’, ‘k?”

 

Walt just rolled his eyes and let the door to the bathroom swing shut. Once it was closed his composed façade crumbled and he leaned his head against the door, drawing in a breath.

 

However casually they’d been addressing each other, they’d…

 

Walt resisted the urge to bang his head against the door. What had Jesse even been _thinking_.

 

Oh Walt knew what _he’d_ been thinking, himself. In that he hadn’t. Been thinking at all, that is. He’d ceased thinking the second Jesse’s mouth had opened under his, letting him in.

 

God. Sometimes it was so nice to not think _anything_ for a change.

 

But what on earth had prompted _Jesse_ to shove Walt onto the bed in the first place?

 

Any further speculating would have to wait. Walt could barely clear the fog from his head long enough to manage a coherent thought. He still felt cloudy from having smoked weed with Jesse last night.

 

And how in God’s name had _that_ had turned out to be the most innocent thing they’d gotten up to, Walt thought drily, heading towards the shower and stepping in.

 

While he got clean he held the showerhead in his hand, running it all over his head, blasting away any lingering fuzziness with the icy spray. He imagined the streams of freezing water puncturing his skull, flooding his brain, reinvigorating it, starting fresh.

 

He had to dry off with the last of the towels they’d used yesterday but it wasn’t too damp thankfully. He wrapped it around his waist, took a breath, and walked back out into the room.

 

It was with a certain amount of relief that he noticed Jesse had indeed fallen back asleep. He wasn’t sure what the reaction would have been if he’d walked back out wearing nothing but a towel, an image whose suggestiveness was hard to avoid. But what was he supposed to do when all his stuff was out here? True he’d been absolutely naked going to the bathroom. But his pre-showered head had been too fuzzy to care.

 

He got dressed quickly with clothes he pulled from his suitcase, casting the occasional glance over to Jesse’s sleeping form. It looked like Jesse _had_ actually started getting dressed, but had been too tired out by the mere act of boxers and a t-shirt to bother continuing. Walt ignored the tug in his chest that wasn’t even anything close to sexual.

 

He was trying not to dwell on everything he’d be leaving behind, and last night was a fine example of this mentality getting out of hand.

 

But pushing aside last night, the fact of the matter was, quite simply:

 

Walt would miss Jesse.

 

Sighing slightly he finished buttoning his shirt and walked around his own bed in the room that he hadn’t ended up using, and sat on the edge of the mattress. He reached out and lightly shook Jesse’s shoulder.

 

Jesse opened his eyes slightly, mumbling something inarticulate.

 

“What was that?” Walt asked.

 

“I said,” Jesse began, rubbing his eyes. “I had the weirdest dream last night.”

 

Normally Walt would have had zero interest in such a topic, writing off whatever would follow as more of Jesse’s frequent, inane babble.

 

But with the images of Walt’s own dream still leaving him spooked, his ears pricked up.

 

“About?”

 

“Keys,” Jesse yawned. “I dreamt I messed up with the keys.”

 

“You did,” Walt said, reminding him. “You dropped yours, remember? I forgot to give them back to you, so I had to throw them to you when – I threw it to you.”

 

 _When you unlocked the door right before I practically pinned you to it_ was what Walt didn’t voice.

 

“No not the room key, the ones for the RV. I dreamt I left them in the ignition and we were stranded, man. It was fucking trippy.” Jesse shook his head, still not looking at Walt. “Like it was bizarre, we were stuck and like, _everything_ went wrong. I don’t remember all of it but we had no water, that I _definitely_ remember,” said Jesse darkly, pushing himself up and sitting on the edge of his bed, mirroring Walt’s pose exactly. “But yeah I was _so_ fucking thirsty, holy shit, like I’ve never been more thirsty in my life, man.”

 

Walt nodded. “You’re probably still dehydrated.”

 

Jesse rubbed his temples. “Probably. I guess I –“ Jesse swallowed and shifted slightly. “Guess I kinda drank too much last night, huh?”

 

And with that he finally looked directly at Walt. His eyes had a hesitancy that was at odds with the casualness of the question. Walt forced himself to breathe normally, now that it was actually out there.

 

The seconds ticked by and Walt knew it was on him to respond. The trouble was he had no idea what to say and it was hard to formulate words with Jesse staring at him so tentatively, but nonetheless intently.

 

Finally he nodded. “I’d almost forgotten what a bar looked like.”

 

Jesse managed a tight smile but Walt’s weak attempt at joking lay between them, gathering dust with every passing second. Walt finally sighed and dropped the front.

 

“Jesse…” Christ, what do you even say in a situation like this. Walt took a breath.

 

“About last night,” he started, and Jesse visibly braced himself. Walt softened a bit as he continued.

 

“It’s possible things might have gotten…carried away,” he finished, as gently as possible.

 

Walt had no idea what Jesse was thinking when he dropped his chin, staring at his knees. Walt waited.

 

Jesse looked up again, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “Yeah you…you might be right,” he said, huffing out a laugh.

 

“It’s not,” Walt spread his hands as though the right words would drop in. “It’s not that I didn’t…appreciate it,” he said, and winced as Jesse raised his eyebrows up to his hairline.

 

“Yeah I’m pretty sure I can still taste your ‘appreciation’,” he said, looking at Walt with a hint of disbelief.

 

“Jesus, Jesse,” Walt groaned, leaning his head into a hand. Why did this have to be like pulling teeth? And why couldn’t Jesse have just been satisfied with getting Walt drunk? Why did he have to drive the theme of ‘unwinding’ home by winding his mouth around Walt’s dick?

 

“Look I’m just saying, it was very considerate of you to – “

 

“Considerate?” Jesse said slowly. He was laughing but not bothering to cover up the incredulousness in his voice anymore. “It’s not exactly like I got nothing out of it, know what I’m saying?”

 

“Jesse would you just _let_ me - I’m trying to – Jesus,” Walt growled, and quickly deflated when Jesse looked taken aback. Softening his voice, he continued:

 

“Look, Jesse I – I enjoyed myself. And I’m glad you had a…similar…enjoyment.” Christ Almighty. “And…I’m just saying…I guess. Thank you. For a memorable evening?” Walt flinched. In a lifetime of social awkwardness he hadn’t realized that conversations could even get _this_ awkward.

 

Jesse looked as though he were trying very very hard not to laugh out loud at Walt again. To Walt’s eternal gratitude he kept it in.

 

“Well you’re welcome,” he said, only slightly mimicking Walt’s formality. But going back to his normal tone of voice he added, “But just so you know, it’s not like I was planning on making it weird or anything like that. So, you know, don’t worry, man. It’s not like there’s any reason to make it awkward.”

 

The ‘since you’re dying’ went unspoken.

 

Walt nodded. “Well that’s – good. So. We’re agreed?”

 

Jesse blinked. “Agreed on?”

 

Walt spread his hands and shrugged. “It never happened,” he said, and offered Jesse a smile.

 

Jesse stared at him for a long moment, his mouth open like he wanted to say something. Finally he snapped it shut and nodded tersely.

 

“Sure man. It never happened.”

 

***

 

It didn’t take them long to pack everything back up. There was one awkward moment where Walt was coming out of the bathroom to make sure they hadn’t left anything behind and Jesse was walking in. They’d squeezed past each other in the doorframe and for a moment Walt felt Jesse’s breath hot on his neck, as they stood chest to chest. Walt’s eyes didn’t quite fall closed, and his lips didn’t quite part, but it was a near thing.

 

But he’d collected himself and they finished packing with minimal fuss.

 

Jesse kept yawning as he got ready, bags under his eyes. He would shoot Walt the occasional hopeful glance, as though Walt would take pity on him and say not to worry, that cooking was off today as well.

 

He just tossed Jesse’s knapsack to him. “Nice try. If I can manage you can.”

 

Jesse caught it, but he staggered a little. “Come on, man, I’m exhausted. You must be, too.”

 

Walt made an unsympathetic sound. “Are you really saying that you, _you_ , who shows up high regularly to cook, that a fifty year old cancer patient can handle a hangover better than you? I’m in better shape, is that what you’re implying? Hmm?”

 

Jesse rolled his eyes. “Whatever man, you weren’t the one with the freaky-ass dream. I feel like I barely slept at all.”

 

Walt wasn’t even going there.

 

“Let’s go,” he said, grabbing his suitcase.

 

Just then there was an enormous clap of thunder that practically shook the entire room with its paper-thin walls. It was followed a second later by an unmistakable drumming on the ceiling as the skies opened up, pounding down relentlessly.

 

Walt and Jesse looked at each other. And Jesse gleefully dropped his knapsack and hopped back onto his bed, grabbing the remote and clicking on the TV to a sports channel at random.

 

“Wait wait, hold on just a second,” Walt said, walking over to the TV and turning it off by hand. The baseball players on the screen were immediately snuffed out. “This doesn’t mean no cooking.”

 

“Uh, pretty sure it _does_ ,” said Jesse, exaggeratedly clicking the remote for further emphasis. “Rain equals moisture in the atmosphere, moisture equals humidity, humidity equals ruined product? My math says no cooking.”

 

“Oh your _math_  says no cooking, does it?” said Walt humourlessly, turning off the TV again. Jesse’s eyes narrowed. “Well _my_ math – which I’d be a lot more inclined to trust than yours – says we can work around it. It’s a simple matter of rerouting the fumes. If we just get the fan and use the re-locator pipes to siphon off some of the vapour we can very easily – “

 

“Dirt road?” said Jesse raising an eyebrow. Walt looked at him blankly. Jesse looked smug.

 

“We get out off-road, right? Out onto the dirt? In rain like this? What happens when the tires sink into the mud and we get stuck, huh? We wait for a tow-truck?”

 

Walt opened his mouth to argue…and then promptly shut it.

 

Jesse picked up the remote again, pointing it very deliberately at the TV. 

 

“Might wanna check your math again,” he said, clicking the TV back on.

 

Walt sighed. And defeated, he walked over to his own bed and lay back against the pillow, joining Jesse in watching the game.

 

 

***

 

An hour later saw Walt and Jesse in the same positions on each of their beds, now joined by an extra large pizza they’d ordered to the room.

 

The wait for the pizza had been agonizing. They’d spoken to each other lightly, just to fill the space. Minor observations about the room, the game, the weather, snatching at any possible immediate topic as something that could alleviate the silence for a few interactive moments before it slipped away, leaving a tension that was almost palpable.

 

It wasn’t even as though they were being hostile with one another. In fact they were being _painfully_ polite in a way that only underlined how atypical the entire situation was.

 

When the food arrived they’d fairly leapt on it, not just as the hangover-recovery carbs it represented, but as something to focus on that wasn’t their fingernails, while they took turns staring at their hands, waiting for the other to come up with something else to say.

 

But the more they ate, the more Walt felt himself starting to relax, actually starting to enjoy the game.

 

“I don’t see why we couldn’t have just gone out somewhere to eat,” said Jesse, between bites of his slice, eyes on the game.

 

“I told you,” said Walt around a mouthful of pizza, wishing Jesse would just drop it. “Because we don’t know this town and we have no way of knowing if those guys from the bar are still looking for us.”

 

“Uh, trust me when I say that literally _no one_ is outside right now,” said Jesse. Droplets of rain thumped incessantly against the window, highlighting his point. Walt couldn’t even see out the window. It was all rivulets of grey water, sliding down, rippling out, a vertical pool, locking them into the room. There might as well have not even been an outside world.

 

“Well okay, what if we go get breakfast and they happen to walk in with the same idea as us? What then?” Walt pressed. It was a bit of a weak argument but Walt was accounting for any eventuality.

 

Jesse reached over to the nightstand, grabbing his can of coke, taking a pull of the straw. “You throw an omelette at them.”

 

Walt snorted. “And if I miss?”

 

“Easy,” said Jesse, undeterred. “You just walk up, look them in the eye, do that freaky voice you sometimes do and go: ‘Stay out of my territory’ or I don’t know, whatever. Something like that.”

 

“Stay out of my – what in God’s name are you talking about?” asked Walt, baffled.

 

Jesse shrugged. “Just an idea. It sounds cool.”

 

“It sounds preposterous.”

 

“Try it,” grinned Jesse around his straw.

 

Walt blinked at him.

 

“Come on, man, ‘stay out of my territory’, just give it a shot, you know you want to.” When Walt looked at him doubtfully Jesse nodded towards their collection of takeout. “I’ll let you have the last dipping stick if you try it.”

 

Walt opened his mouth. “Stay out of…you know what no, this is ridiculous,” he groaned.

 

Jesse grinned. “Then no dipping stick for you,” he said, reaching towards it.

 

“What? That is so not – I didn’t agree to these terms,” laughed Walt lunging forward to beat Jesse to it.

 

Their hands met in the middle, fingers tangling momentarily. Walt shot back as if burned.

 

The brief levity shrivelled up immediately. Jesse eyed Walt and bit his lip. Walt couldn’t even look at Jesse, keeping his eyes glued to the game he wasn’t watching. When Jesse saw that Walt wasn’t looking back over, he turned to face forward again as well.

 

The only sound in the room was the voice of the baseball commentator, crackling his observations from the TV.

 

The walls of the room were pressing in with even more strain than before.

 

A few more narrated plays later, Jesse angled his head over to Walt’s half of the room.

 

“You know,” he mumbled. “Earlier when I said _I_ wasn’t gonna make things weird?”

 

Walt kept his eyes fixed forward but his ears tipped towards Jesse.

 

Jesse took another swig of coke. “You might want to try it sometime.”

 

The rest of the game passed in silence.

 

 

***

 

 

Walt stumbled back into the motel room shaking raindrops from his head, arms full of boxes.

 

Jesse got up off his bed to grab the topmost box from the stack in Walt’s arms, an expression of consternation on his face. Jesse’s least favourite part of any cook was cleaning the equipment.

 

“Yeah yeah,” Walt said. “If we’re not getting any cooking done we might as well prep for next time.”

 

Jesse fumbled slightly with the box he was setting on the carpeted floor.

 

“So there’s gonna be a next time, then?”

 

Walt paused, his mouth open.

 

“Well just in case, I mean. I don’t know how much longer I have left but we might still get in one more cook, maybe two. And you can obviously keep the stuff after so…” Walt’s voice trailed off.

 

There was no reason for Jesse to not keep cooking, to keep the equipment running even after Walt was gone. It was ridiculous but somehow the image made Walt feel a little less lonely.

 

Jesse was giving Walt that look again. The one he gave him last night that was both pained and hopeful and anguished, whenever Walt brought up his fate.

 

Walt couldn’t stand looking at it for another second.

 

“Go shower,” he said gruffly. “I can get started here.”

 

Jesse looked like he wanted to object. But Walt just sat down on the carpet, unpacking the boxes he’d loaded with various flasks and containers that needed scrubbing, ignoring Jesse completely.

 

Jesse’s bare feet were in Walt’s direct line of vision, fidgeting just past the row of cylinders he was taking out and setting onto the carpet. He watched the feet tense, almost as though Jesse were about to walk over to Walt. And then he saw them turn abruptly on their heels and pace out of the frame. The slam of the bathroom door followed quickly afterwards.

 

All the breath went out of Walt in one whoosh. This was getting to be ridiculous. Here was Walt, trying to keep things as civil as possible for the rest of the time they had together. And Jesse wasn’t making it any easier, shooting Walt desperate glances whenever he thought Walt didn’t notice.

 

How the hell could Walt possibly not notice in quarters as close as these? Even the RV felt roomier. But then again they still had work that could occupy them, an entire world of chemistry at their fingertips. So it had never really felt that small.

 

Which was exactly why Walt had gone out to get some of the equipment that needed a scrubbing down, in the hopes that it might cut some of the tension.

 

Walt looked around the room for something to spread out on the floor, so he could start lining the equipment. His eyes fell on a towel by Jesse’s bed. He leaned over and grabbed it, rolling it out flat onto the carpet –

 

– and his eyes went immediately to the stain at the corner, hard evidence of last night, from when they’d cleaned themselves up.

 

Walt groaned. Unbelievable.

 

Walt had only engaged in…in all of that with Jesse because there _weren’t_ supposed to be any after effects.

 

Instead the whole night seemed determined to dog him all day, whether it was through the shock that had gone through him when his fingers brushed Jesse’s, or through the way Jesse kept casting glances over to Walt as though willing him to open up, or through a dried semen stain on a motel towel.

 

Walt gazed up at the ceiling, closing his eyes. And muttering to himself he flipped that corner of the towel under so that the stain was invisible, and started setting up the rest of the equipment.

 

***

 

Walt and Jesse sat on opposite sides of the towel, legs crossed, each scrubbing at various bits and pieces from their lab.

 

At least Walt had been right in that occupying themselves with some sort of menial task might diffuse any residual awkwardness. Jesse seemed normal enough, post-shower. He was biting his lip in concentration as he tried to scrub the inner edges of a graduated cylinder. Walt tried to forget what those lips felt like when they were rubbing against his skin.

 

Shaking his head clear, Walt reached for another beaker, into which he squirted some cleaning solution. The bottle they used for cleaning between cooks sputtered slightly, since they were running low.

 

Walt shook the bottle at Jesse. “Don’t forget to stock up.”

 

Jesse looked up from his task and nodded once at Walt.

 

Walt sighed. This was what he had _wanted_. Just normal interactions laced with nothing else beyond the task at hand.

 

But it was almost comical, the difference between the atmospheres of last night and today. The cold, grey, pounding rain of today couldn’t have been more at odds with the pressing heat of the other evening.

 

Last night Walt had sat across from Jesse in a bright, noisy, hot bar while Jesse shot him one loaded look after another, looks that Walt had been only too ready to return. The music had been loud, they hadn’t stopped swapping banter for a second, and the entire vibe had been heated beyond belief.

 

Today they sat on the floor of a dingy motel room where the only sound was from the rain drumming against the windows, occupied with the sober task of cleaning out lab equipment, and were barely exchanging two words.

 

Walt watched Jesse set down the cylinder he’d been working on, picking up a new one.

 

“So what would you do with the money?” he asked abruptly.

 

Jesse’s forehead creased as he looked at Walt.

 

“What’s that?”

 

“We were talking about what we were going to do with the money from this last batch,” said Walt, angling his head the approximate direction of the RV, acknowledging a conversation Jesse had initiated the other day.

 

“Uh yeah, like ten years ago, man,” said Jesse, giving Walt an odd look. Walt ignored it.

 

“Yeah well. I never asked you back what you’d do with yours,” Walt said. “Hypothetically.”

 

Jesse shrugged. “Hadn’t really thought about it to be honest. Didn’t have the time.”

 

Walt paused. “You’ve got time now. If you could buy anything.”

 

Jesse looked at Walt disbelievingly. Walt set down the beaker he’d been working on, giving Jesse his full attention.

 

Why not. He could throw Jesse a bone.

 

So to speak.

 

Jesse looked thoughtfully at a point just over Walt’s shoulder.

 

“Well hypothetically,” he said, making air quotes, and dropped his chin. Walt waited.

 

“I think I’d start like, a school or something.”

 

Walt didn’t know if he’d heard correctly.

 

“A school? You?” he couldn’t resist asking, and instantly bit his tongue. He was trying to get Jesse to open up, not to put him further on the defense.

 

But Jesse just looked up, eyes somewhere else. “Yeah I don’t really know what kind of school, I guess. I don’t mean like… _school_ school. But a program or something.”

 

To say Walt was thrown for a loop would be putting it mildly.

 

“A program for what?”

 

Jesse’s eyes snapped back to Walt’s, like he couldn’t believe Walt was actually interested, but Walt just nodded at him to go on.

 

“Well I don’t know, some kind of like, big brother program maybe. You know those ones? Like I do have a younger brother but I don’t know, I haven’t been around much. I think I could have been alright for him to have, looking out for him, advice and all that stuff. If I got the chance I guess.”

 

Walt was silent so Jesse continued. “But there are other kids too who’d probably need it a lot more than him, to be honest. So I don’t know, if I actually had the cash I could maybe start something up, like maybe just neighbourhood kids at first but then branch out or something, put it in the schools. Actually get a program going or something. ” Jesse shrugged.

 

Walt could hardly believe what he was hearing. Here he was trying to escape the school he’d been stuck in for the past ten-plus years, because it was beneath him. And here was Jesse who’d dicked around his entire educational career but apparently couldn’t wait to dive back in to the whole scene.

 

“That could be a good idea,” Walt said hesitantly, and Jesse’s eyes lit up and Walt couldn’t help smiling back.

 

He cleared his throat and asked, “But no more cooking then? I mean you’d have the means. You’d have the RV all to yourself, you have equipment, you’ll have a good start up. You’d have,” Walt swallowed. “You’d still have my formula. If you wanted.”

 

Jesse raised an eyebrow. “You’d be okay with that? Me cooking your formula by myself?”

 

Walt knew it was insane to be practically pushing Jesse in the meth direction, especially after Jesse had just confessed a life goal that was approximately five thousand times more noble than anything Walt would have guessed of him.

 

But somehow death didn’t seem so bad if Walt knew a piece of him could still keep on going, in one way or another. He liked the idea of his memory being literally in Jesse’s hands.

 

“Well sure,” he said easily. “After I’m gone, though, obviously. I mean there’d be nothing stopping you. And you’d have your pick of people to cook with.”

 

Jesse had completely abandoned the cylinder he’d been cleaning. It lay forgotten by his crossed, bare feet as he gave Walt a considering look.

 

Finally he cracked a smile and shook his head.

 

“Wouldn’t be the same,” he said.

 

“How so?”

 

Jesse just shrugged. “I don’t know. Wouldn’t be as fun.”

 

Walt almost choked. “ _Fun_? You think cooking with me is fun?”

 

Jesse blushed but picked up the cylinder again, scrubbing it out. “Yeah well, you know. When you’re not being a complete and total _dick_ it’s not too bad. You’re better to have in a lab than Badger, that’s for sure.”

 

Walt sat thinking. About how ludicrously selfish it was to want Jesse to go on cooking if it meant Walt could still be present in some way. He finally deflated and laughed at how ridiculous his line of thinking was, abandoning the idea.

 

“Well then we might as well hang it up at the same time. Probably for the best. If you kept cooking by yourself I’d have to come back and haunt you, just to make sure you’re doing it right.”

 

Jesse visibly started at the out-of-the-blue playfulness from Walt.

 

“So basically what you already do now, is that what you’re saying?” Jesse spoke teasingly but his eyes were soft.

 

“Well as long as you keep forgetting to read the reduction measurements, I mean it’s not like they’re not going to read themselves…”

 

“Read _this_ ,” grinned Jesse, giving Walt the finger over the scrub brush he was holding and laughed as Walt reached out, forcefully grabbing his hand.

 

They struggled for a few moments over their lab equipment on the towel, Jesse laughing as Walt tried to wrestle the finger down.

 

Finally Walt managed to pull Jesse’s hand down to the towel, pinning it there with his own.

 

This time he didn’t move it.

 

Jesse’s breath caught mid-laugh as he stared at their hands, pushed together on the towel. He looked back up at Walt tentatively.

 

Walt bit his lip, heart hammering from the impulse

 

And closing his hand loosely over Jesse’s, he gently brushed his thumb over the skin of Jesse’s wrist.

 

Jesse swallowed as he gazed at Walt. When Walt did it again, Jesse’s eyes drooped.

 

It would be the easiest thing in the world to gently tug Jesse by the hand over the lab equipment, lean forward and meet him the middle to kiss him.

 

Walt saw it all play out: pulling Jesse forward and catching his mouth, parting his lips with his own, kissing him over the towel, still gripping him by the wrist. He’d let go just to wrap his hands around Jesse’s waist, pulling him closer, towel getting bunched up in the process. Jesse would grab the back of his head like he had last night, driving their lips together harder until Walt would push him on his back onto the carpet, clamber on top of the lean line of his body, and take him apart right there on the floor.

 

He could feel Jesse’s pulse rabbiting beneath his thumb and when he stared at Jesse’s face he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Jesse would let him. Walt had been avoiding the idea all day but he knew then, however he tried to rationalize it, that he still wanted this.

 

So why shouldn’t he take it?

 

And when Jesse’s lips parted lightly he gently started to reel in Jesse towards him –

 

– which was right when Jesse’s phone went off.

 

Jesse jumped and immediately snatched his hand back, reaching into his pocket. Walt resisted the urge to curse.

 

Jesse read the name on the screen and Walt saw first a look of surprise, then one of worry, then a smile bubbling around his lips. Jesse hastily mouthed ‘sorry’ at Walt and flipped the phone open saying ‘Hey!’

 

Walt picked up another beaker and started scrubbing it unnecessarily hard. Jesse watched him for a moment before his attention snapped back to his phone call and the girl at the other end. Jesse got up and padded over to the bathroom to talk with some privacy, since it was still coming down hard outside.

 

Just before the door swung shut Walt heard Jesse laughing at something.

 

He _knew_ Jesse wasn’t laughing at him. From a purely cerebral standpoint he knew that wasn’t the case.

 

But it still felt like Jesse was.

 

Walt looked around the motel room, almost as though he was making sure no one was watching him.

 

And getting up he lightly strode towards the bathroom and slowly, carefully pressed his ear to the closed door.

 

He couldn’t make out any actual words. He doubted they would have revealed much anyways. But he could definitely make out the tone.

 

Jesse was murmuring in a low, warm voice. It was the same voice he’d used when he’d given Walt a slow lazy smile the previous night, right before gently pushing him onto the bed and kneeling between his legs.

 

Walt pressed his ear harder against the door, shutting his eyes. He couldn't resist bringing up a hand to place against the smooth wood.

 

Jesse was laughing now. A flirty laugh he’d given Walt as he’d teased him back at the bar.

 

Walt’s finger twitched over the door, like he was about to reach down and grab the handle, wrenching it open, interrupting Jesse.

 

And then what?

 

Pulling himself together Walt unglued himself from the door and made his way back to the towel of lab equipment, sat down, picked up a brush and started scrubbing, a low fury he couldn’t identify starting to build in his gut.

 

 

***

 

 

The rain was still pouring down and it was completely dark outside at this point.

 

Walt and Jesse had closed the curtains in the room when they’d first started cleaning out their equipment because of how suspicious it might have looked, if anyone happened to walk by.

 

But Walt could still hear the relentless thump of raindrops against the windowpane. Rather than soothe him it just put him more on edge, his mood getting stormier to match it.

 

Sometime later the bathroom door opened and Jesse stepped out, oblivious that he was standing exactly where Walt had been standing before, listening to him.

 

Walt didn’t look up, even as Jesse walked over.

 

“Uh, Mr. White?” Jesse asked.

 

Walt grunted in response. Jesse shuffled where he stood.

 

“Do you think it might be maybe possible to like, head back a bit earlier?” Jesse asked.

 

Walt snorted. “And how would I explain that? I’m only expected back tomorrow.”

 

“Yeah I know but like,” Jesse scratched absently at one foot with his other. “I’m kind of thinking maybe I should head back.”

 

Walt looked up, nodding at the phone in Jesse’s hand. “This about your friend?”

 

Jesse blushed but he nodded. “Yeah I…I know she was blowing me off yesterday but I guess things are cool now. I just kind of think it might be best to get back sooner rather than later.”

 

Walt stared at Jesse for a long moment. Then he shook his head and went back to scrubbing a glass beaker.

 

“No. Four days. You agreed.”

 

“Dude that’s,” Jesse shot out. But he visibly swallowed his irritation and continued: “Can’t you just invent a story about coming back early or something? It’s not like we’re cooking or anything. I mean at the point we’re just killing time. And like, that’s chill or whatever, I was fine with it before. But I don’t know, I’ve got other things I could be doing.”

 

“Oh sure, other things. Like the girl who you said wouldn’t even call herself your girlfriend. Who ignored you for a full day? Other things like that?”

 

Jesse’s mouth fell open. “Dude what’s the matter with you? What do you care?”

 

Walt gritted his teeth and kept cleaning. Jesse stepped towards him and crouched down, his eyes flashing in annoyance.

 

“Yo I asked you a question. What do you care?” he said, testing Walt.

 

Walt dropped the scrub brush and looked back at Jesse, not even trying to conceal his rage.

 

“What do I care? Why should _I_ have to invent a story about getting back early just because you can’t keep it in your pants for one more day, huh?”

 

Jesse’s eyes burned. “No man, the real question is why should I have to hang out with you all day, dicking around, just to keep you company because no one else wants to?”

 

Walt stood up abruptly, dropping the beaker, and Jesse matched him, undeterred.

 

“Oh I’m sorry, did I get it wrong? That’s not why we’re hiding out here in some motel room in the middle of nowhere?” He put on a voice that mocked Mr. White’s: “No Jesse we have to stay inside or the drunk guys might get us. No Jesse we have to order to the room instead of going out to eat. No Jesse instead of hitting the road let’s scrub shit for five hours because I’m too much of a spaz to go outside.”

 

Walt clenched his fist to keep his fingers from lashing out and squeezing around Jesse’s throat instead.

 

“Oh what, did I miss something?” sneered Jesse. “I mean I rolled with it before ‘cause why not, but that’s totally it, isn’t it? You’re not worried about going back to the real world too early,” he laughed. “You’re too much of a pussy to go back at all.”

 

When Junior had called Walt that, Walt wasn’t allowed to step towards him, grab him by the shirt and slam him against the wall.

 

But he could with Jesse.

 

Jesse’s back hit the wall with a loud thump as Walt pinned him there.

 

“Dude get _off_ ,” he yelled, grappling at Walt’s arms. Walt just pushed him against the wall harder.

 

“You think you’re so smart,” he growled into Jesse’s ear. “But you have no _clue_ about anything.”

 

“I know you’re a freaking psycho,” Jesse hissed as he struggled against the push of Walt’s arms.

 

“You don’t have the slightest idea about what I face,” said Walt forcefully. “The stuff I go through on a daily basis would make you go crying all the way back to your rich parents.”

 

Jesse laughed a bit wildly. “The stuff _you’ve_ faced? You couldn’t last one day with some of the shit I’ve seen.”

 

“Oh yeah what’s that?” mocked Walt. “Your x-box wouldn’t turn on? MTV was playing a rerun? Your stripper girlfriend wasn’t texting you back? I don’t blame her, you’re _pathetic_ ,” he yelled, shoving Jesse harder into the wall. “Why does she even want you to come back in the first place? She clearly doesn’t know about last night. Were you just planning on not telling her you _slept with me_?”

 

The words, finally out there, echoed around the room.

 

Walt breathed heavily, feeling himself unwind. He immediately regretted overreacting but he just… _God_ , it was surreal how much the kid wound him up.

 

Jesse was watching Walt, mouth parted in surprise. But he snapped it shut, face taking on a nasty expression.

 

“I thought it ‘never happened’,” he spat out. Walt’s arms went slack and Jesse wrenched himself loose, stepping away from Walt and the wall. Walt leaned back against it, deflated.

 

Walt rubbed his head. He suddenly understood why Jesse was acting like this, and a flood of guilt hit him right after.

 

“Jesse, you know I didn’t mean – “

 

“No would you just shut up already?” said Jesse whirling around, jabbing a finger at Walt. Walt was hit by the venom in his words and raised his hands to placate Jesse, but Jesse didn’t even register it.

 

“You’re a piece of work, you know that, right? I mean _Jesus_ what is it with you? Do you seriously not hear how everything you say is complete and total bullshit?”

 

“Jesse –“

 

“Shut _up_ ,” yelled Jesse again and Walt did. “How are you just – what’s _wrong_ with you? How is this my fault?” Jesse waved his hands at the room helplessly. “What, like you’re gonna tell _your_ wife? Have you even thought about her _once_ since we got out here? How come whenever _you_ do something it’s okay, but when I go do the exact same thing it makes me an idiot?!”

 

“I didn’t say that,” said Walt desperately. God, couldn’t Jesse just listen?

 

“No, you didn’t,” Jesse snorted. “Just ‘pathetic’, wasn’t that it?”

 

Walt didn’t have an answer. But Jesse had more than enough words for them both. They just weren’t ones Walt was expecting to hear.

 

“I don’t _get_ you,” whispered Jesse, his change in tone sending Walt’s chin upwards in surprise to meet Jesse’s eyes. He was more taken aback than he’d ever been in his life when he saw how red-rimmed they were. Shit.

 

“No really, I honestly don’t get you,” said Jesse in a pleading voice. “I mean you just waltz right in and make me cook for you, but then you make it _pretty fucking clear_ I’m useless to you. I mean god, why don’t you just let me go?”

 

Walt didn’t have an answer. Jesse didn’t want one.

 

“You just  - you fucking jerk me around all the time but then pull me right back in, and I don’t know why I keep falling for it but apparently I do because I’m just an idiot,” he said, angrily wiping away a tear that had rolled loose from his eye. Walt had seen Jesse worked up before but was beyond lost on this.

 

“And then,” Jesse laughed in disbelief. “And then you go and tell me you’re dying, and what, I’m just supposed to be okay with that?” he asked, voice going higher. Walt reached out to – to what? Put a hand on the tense line of Jesse’s shoulder? He stopped, sure that if he did, Jesse might bite it off.

 

“I mean come on, you come in here and one second you’re…you’re _that_ ,” Jesse’s voice caught while he gestured over to the rumpled sheets of his bed. “But then the next second you’re _that_ ,” he swung his arm angrily towards the wall.

 

Walt looked at the bed to which he’d pinned Jesse so playfully last night, almost sweetly, and then to the wall he’d just shoved him into, and felt the slow burn of shame.

 

“Never happened,” mocked Jesse again. He seemed like he was trying to say it bitterly, but some of the sting was taken out by the fact that his breath kept catching. “How am I supposed to pretend that _anything_ to do with you ‘never happened’? You friggin took over my entire _life_.”

 

Jesse’s voice actually broke on the last word. Walt just stared at him helplessly.

 

Jesse drew in a shuddering breath and looked back up at Walt, eyes streaming. “And now you’re leaving,” he choked out simply.

 

Walt opened his mouth, desperately searching for words.

 

“Jesse…maybe it’s for the best…”

 

“ _Fuck_ that, man!” Jesse shouted. He had been deflating but it was like Walt’s half-heartedly chosen words of comfort had sent an electric current right back through him. His eyes crackled at Walt in despair.

 

“And what? It’s all gonna be okay because ooh, you’re going to leave me your chemistry set after you’re gone? Gee, thanks man, guess it doesn’t matter anymore that you’re dying, as long as I can get some fucking beakers out of it,” he yelled incredulously, walking over to Walt and grabbing him by his shirt collar, shaking him. He was right in Walt’s face and Walt could make out every tear that hadn’t escaped yet.

 

Walt instinctually raised his hands and awkwardly patted Jesse’s arms that were shaking.

 

“Jesse you’re…it’s really not that bad,” Walt offered desperately. “It’s okay, you’re – you’re overreacting…”

 

Jesse laughed hysterically. “Oh I’m _sorry_ , Mr. Robocop, I almost forgot you don’t have any actual emotions. Jesus, are you actually _human_? I mean seriously, what the hell is wrong with you? You’re – you’re dying and it’s just…it’s _okay_? You act like nothing is happening, like you’re not going anywhere and I mean, do you even feel _anything_?”

 

Walt opened his mouth, remembering yesterday how he’d almost actually started crying when he’d been alone in the motel room, but had managed to tap it down.

 

He couldn’t have been in bigger contrast to Jesse now, whose eyes were flowing freely as he watched Walt with a knowing expression that quickly crumbled.

 

“That’s what I thought,” he said tremulously, and tightened his hands on Walt’s collar. He leaned in closer, breathing heavily.

 

“And what about me? What do I get?”

 

Jesse’s voice was rising, getting more and more frantic on every word. “You think you can just go and walk into my life and then _leave_ , leave me with nothing, and – and,” Jesse broke off and looked at the floor wildly, picking up a jar at random, brandishing it at Walt.

 

“And all I get, all I have left to remember you is a bunch of fucking _test tubes_?” he shouted.

 

And with that, he violently hurled the jar towards Walt where it exploded on the wall beside him, fragments shattering everywhere.

 

Jesse froze, as though caught off guard himself by the outburst. He looked at Walt desperately.

 

And then, face crumbling, all the fight seeming to leave him at once, he walked over to Walt, placed his forehead on Walt’s chest, and started to cry.

 

Walt stood stock still while Jesse sobbed against him. And then slowly, hesitantly he wrapped his arms around Jesse.

 

Jesse didn’t shake him off like he thought he might, but instead burrowed harder into Walt’s chest.

 

Walt flashed back to the dream he’d had before waking up. Of metal tongs being thrust into his chest, looking for something in painful, jerking motions, violently wrenching themselves out of his chest when they didn’t find it in there

 

When Jesse pushed his face harder against Walt’s shirt, head resting just over his heart, Walt felt like if the tongs tried again they might find something this time.

 

Walt’s arms tightened around Jesse pulling him in closer. He reached up to cup the back of Jesse’s head.

 

“It’s okay,” he murmured against Jesse’s ear. “It’s okay, Jesse, you’re gonna be okay, it’s not that bad,” he repeated, stroking Jesse’s hair.

 

Jesse pulled his head off of Walt’s chest, leaving a damp patch on his shirt. He looked at Walt, eyes wet.

 

“Could you just shut up?” he whispered. Walt could feel his ragged breaths puffing against his lips. “For five seconds could you just shut up?” Jesse’s lips trembled.

 

Walt knew if he said one more word that Jesse would break.

 

So Walt kissed him instead.

 

Jesse’s lips stilled as Walt pressed against them. Walt slowly worked Jesse’s mouth with his own, re-familiarizing himself with the taste, the texture, the softness, the images of doing this last night rushing through his head with the speed of a camera shutter.

 

After a few long moments of just kissing him, Walt eventually pried his lips away from Jesse whose mouth was hanging open as he stared at Walt.

 

He seemed to be swaying, his eyes uncertain. Walt felt Jesse’s fingers tighten in his collar and for a moment Walt thought Jesse would lean in.

 

But it was like a wall suddenly slammed down over Jesse’s eyes. Jesse’s mouth snapped shut and he glared at Walt.

 

“You son of a bitch,” he whispered.

 

And releasing him with a shove, Jesse stepped away from Walt, and walked over to the door of the motel where he slid on his shoes.

 

Walt made as though to walk towards Jesse but Jesse stopped him with a look.

 

“Go to hell,” he got out through gritted teeth.

 

And not bothering to grab a jacket he wrenched the door open and stepped out into the pounding rain, slamming the door behind him.

 

And Walt was left standing in the middle of the room, watching the door, and just like Jesse had said he was earlier: totally alone.

 

Just yesterday it had been ‘I don’t want you to die.’ Today it was ‘go to hell.’

 

Walt would do whatever Jesse wanted if he’d just…if he’d just come _back_ , already…

 

Sighing, Walt raised a hand to his temples, suddenly struck by a headache that he didn’t think was related to his health. How had things gotten so fucked up.

 

He walked deeper into the room, aimlessly, its décor making it the world’s most garishly decorated prison cell. Everything in the room seemed to be mocking him from the lamp’s seedy glow, the empty pizza box on the floor, representing a meal whose awkwardness Walt wasn’t sure could be topped, the overturned lab equipment that had been scattered in their rage, the now bunched-up towel showing the stains of last night’s arousal…

 

Walt caught sight of his reflection in the blank TV, blurry and dim, distended by the curve of the screen. He barely even looked like a human, just some dark, distorted figure, just out of frame. His fingers twitched, as though he could reach into the screen, yank out the twisted figure and snap him in two.

 

Instead when he reached out it was to turn the TV on. The bright images flooded the screen, wiping out the figure with their technicolour grain. But Walt could still make out his outline.

 

And walking over to his bed he sat down on the edge of the mattress, facing Jesse’s empty bed. The wrinkles on the sheets were only from when Jesse had been lying on it while they watched TV. But Walt still couldn’t help picturing the outlines of two figures, rolling and pressing together, rumpling the sheets in their passion, the memories of last night taunting him.

 

Walt had no idea where Jesse was. He hadn’t heard the RV start up in the parking lot, but that didn’t mean Jesse wouldn’t take off in the night, leaving Walt stranded out here, wherever they were, missing his deadline to get back home.

 

He didn’t even care. Jesse had been right. Walt didn’t have anyone, not really. Of course he had his family but it was almost like they lived in a different universe that was only paralleling his own. Sometimes there was the threat of overlap but for the most part they stayed separate entities. And Walt had to slip between the cracks of each world like a spectre, unable to fully commit to living in either. His family life of nine-to-five structure and coddling, and his secret life of volatile chaos with Jesse were as different as heaven and hell. Walt didn’t want to think about which one was which.

 

But if they were heaven and hell, then was this motel room out in the middle of nowhere some kind of purgatory? A kind of static limbo, determined to haunt Walt and remind him of how anonymous and forgotten he really was. For a few brief, burning moments, Jesse Pinkman had somehow managed to pull him out of the fog with a feverish whim that Walt had been only too willing to go along with.

 

But Jesse was gone now, just one more person Walt had managed to drive away with one selfish impulse too many.

 

Somehow he’d never felt more alone than he did now.

 

Walt sighed and leaned onto his knees. Was it even worth it, going to the trouble to regret his decisions? Come on, what was the point. What did amends matter when he’d be a dead man either way?

 

Walt was appalled to feel his throat closing up. For the second time in as many days he was sitting alone in a hotel room, trying not to dwell on the fact that just when his life was picking up in some ways, someone else had plans to yank him out.

 

He _refused_ to let himself cry, he wasn’t some self-loathing teenager home alone in his bedroom anymore. He also refused to let Jesse’s voice play over and over in his head:

 

_Do you even feel anything?_

Walt buried his head in his hands, fingers digging into his temples like he could crush out Jesse’s voice careening through his head.

 

It had gotten so dark in the room at this point. The only light came from the TV, enveloping Walt in flashing lights while the commercials played.

 

And unable to stand its shrill messages any longer Walt picked up the remote, turning it off. Now the room was completely silent.

 

If Walt really was alone he might as well make it official. His throat tightened up again.

 

And leaning forward, head pressed into the heels of his hand, Walt screwed his eyes shut and tried to block out everything to do with the rest of the world for just one more night.

 

 

***

 

Walt woke up to the click of the door. He opened his eyes blearily and realized he was still hunched over. He must have fallen asleep on the side of the bed.

 

The room was pitch black but there were definitely footsteps, crunching into the carpet. Walt willed his pulse to stay steady. Who knew how many times a place like this had been broken into? Walt had a vision of himself lying spread-eagle on the carpet, slowly bleeding out from a gunshot wound in some robbery gone wrong. The footsteps came closer and Walt could just make out a figure coming out of the shadows of the room.

 

Walt forced himself to clear his throat. And heart hammering he said hoarsely:

 

“Just take whatever you want.”

 

And opening his eyes the rest of the way, he barely had enough time to register Jesse’s face before it ducked down, and Jesse was kissing him softly on the lips.

 

Walt waited until Jesse pulled away to open his mouth.

 

“Jesse?”

 

This was surreal. Walt’s heart was still pounding but for an entirely different reason. He really thought Jesse had walked out for good.

 

He reached forward to grasp at Jesse’s sleeve, frowning when he felt how drenched it was from the rain. Jesse was soaked to the bone. Walt looked up to the mouth that had just been pressed to his own and felt a stab of worry. People’s lips weren’t supposed to match their eyes.

 

“Jesse, you’re freezing, you have to get in the shower or –“

 

He was cut off by another icy kiss that sent a shiver down his spine. Jesse gently worked Walt’s mouth open where he stood over him. Walt’s fingers tightened in the damp fabric of Jesse’s shirt.

 

Oh god what was Jesse _doing_ , Walt thought frantically, as Jesse’s cool lips parted his own. How long had Jesse been outside in a downpour like this? Is that why he had finally come back? Because he hadn’t been able to stand the rain any longer but thought the only way Walt would let him come back inside was by doing what he was doing now, which was running a chilled hand over Walt’s jaw, tilting his head up to get a better angle as he slipped his tongue into Walt’s mouth, lightly sliding it against his –

 

Walt wrenched his mouth away.

 

“Jesse, you…you don’t have to do this,” he said, shaking his head.

 

Jesse’s drew Walt’s chin back toward him, so that Walt was facing him.

 

“I know,” Jesse said simply. He leaned in to kiss Walt again, fingers tightening over Walt’s jaw.

 

When he nipped at Walt’s bottom lip, Walt broke off with a gasp.

 

“Jesse seriously, if you’re, I don’t know, feeling sorry for me, _don’t_ , this really isn’t necessary, I…I’ve been an idiot - ”

 

Jesse lifted an eyebrow in surprise.

 

“I _know_ ,” he said deliberately, lip quirking up a bit.

 

Jesse didn’t lean back in, not then. He placed another freezing palm on the other side of Walt’s face, sending a jolt of the chill from outside straight to Walt’s head, leaching into it, clearing away the ache that had been there.

 

Walt looked helplessly up at Jesse, standing over where Walt was sitting on the mattress, cupping Walt’s face, quietly determined. He brushed his thumb over Walt’s cheekbone.

 

Walt swallowed tightly.

 

“Jesse –“

 

Jesse waited patiently.

 

Walt finally reached up to gingerly place his warm hand over Jesse’s freezing one.

 

“I want – “

 

Walt didn’t even know how to complete the sentence. There was so much he wanted, and so little time left in which he could get it. But when Jesse turned his hand to lace their fingers together, the simple intimacy of the movement, so at odds with how they normally were, sent the words tumbling right out:

 

“I want you.”

 

Jesse’s fingers stilled.

 

“I know.”

 

They stared at each other, Walt looking up at Jesse from where he sat on the bed. Jesse was still mostly an outline in the dark room. But when Walt licked his lips once he could have sworn he saw Jesse’s eyes cloud over in lust.

 

And then Jesse’s mouth was back on his in flash, desperately prying it open, hands clenching over Walt’s face, nails dragging into his cheeks, having gone from zero to a hundred in less than a second.

 

“Oh god, Mr. White,” he choked out when Walt’s arms reached up to circle around his waist. Walt just kissed him harder and pulled him closer. He could feel Jesse’s fingers losing their grip and they released their hold on his face to travel down to the buttons of his shirt.

 

He felt Jesse fumbling at the buttons, hands too numb to manage them. Jesse was shaking from either cold, frustration or arousal, and he gave up, wringing his hands pathetically at Walt.

 

“Oh god just please, please just - take it off, Mr. White, take it off – “

 

“What? Oh, yeah just, here, I got it -”

 

Walt frantically started unbuttoning his shirt. When Jesse had wanted Walt to take off his clothes last night, he’d informed him by standing over him, eyes glittering down at Walt authoritatively while he basically ordered Walt to do it.

 

It couldn’t have been more different from how he was desperately begging Walt now.

 

Walt couldn’t even begin to think about which version of Jesse he preferred more. He couldn’t think of anything. He didn’t know what had prompted Jesse to come back, why Jesse wanted this again, but he wasn’t going to question it.

 

Once he’d shucked off his shirt, Walt started on his pants, casting a glance up to Jesse who was practically ripping off his own damp clothes. They peeled away from his body with a wet, snapping sound and Walt felt himself instantly go hard under the pants he was undoing now.

 

 They couldn’t seem to tear their eyes away from the other’s progress, eyes roaming hungrily over each other as more and more of their bodies became revealed.

 

Once all of their clothes were off, Jesse practically _launched_ himself at Walt, kissing him everywhere he could reach, straddling Walt where he sat on the edge of the bed, basically sitting in his lap as he ran his hands up and down Walt’s arms while Walt’s hands scrabbled desperately over Jesse’s back.

 

Oh god Jesse was _freezing_. But rather than making Walt recoil it sent a rush through him, and he found himself exhilarated by the slide of Jesse’s cool, damp skin, rubbing frantically against his dry, flushed body, feverish from having been cooped up all day.

 

It was like Jesse was fresh air and Walt couldn’t stop filling his lungs, putting something in there that actually felt _good_.

 

Jesse bent his forehead to Walt’s and panted over his mouth. Walt breathed it all in like he’d been drowning. And then he tilted his head up to close their lips together.

 

Jesse responded immediately, kissing Walt in a frenzy, arms looping around Walt’s neck as he rutted down into Walt’s lap.

 

Walt brought one hand to between them, lowering it to Jesse’s groin. Jesse was still limp, too cold to be aroused yet. But it didn’t stop him from pushing insistently against Walt’s hand. Walt hissed in a breath and rubbed Jesse there, slow at first, picking up speed the more Jesse quivered from the action.

 

Jesse moaned and went back to kissing Walt, pressing against him, trying to absorb the warmth of his skin. Walt let go of Jesse’s cock so he could wrap his arms around him, rubbing his back, holding him against his chest, trying to let some of his warmth bleed into Jesse, whose skin was beginning to feel less icy the more Walt rubbed it.

 

Walt pulled Jesse harder against him, crushing him to his chest, as though he could somehow pull Jesse in hard enough to shatter his breastbone and break right through his chest, filling Walt completely.

 

Jesse continued his attack on Walt’s mouth, biting it, kissing it, his eyes leaving traces of wetness on Walt’s cheek as he kissed Walt’s face everywhere he could reach. Walt assumed the streaks of moisture being left on his face were from the rain.

 

“Mr. White,” he kept whispering between kisses. Walt reached up to run a hand through Jesse’s hair.

 

“Mr. White,” he gasped again, kissing him harder. Walt’s hands went to Jesse’s groin and Jesse arched up towards his palm.

 

“Mr. White,” he choked out as Walt squeezed his erection that was fully formed at this point, his arms tightening around Walt’s neck. “Mr. White, Mr. White, Mr. White…”

 

He repeated it over and over, the words losing some of the force with every kiss Walt pressed to his eyes, his jaw, his throat…

 

And when Walt pressed his lips again over Jesse’s, Jesse stopped talking altogether.

 

They rocked together achingly, curled into each other, every movement sending spikes of pleasure through Walt.

 

Last night had been a heady, delirious, drunken haze of arousal where Walt hadn’t been registering specific actions so much as the overall sensations that had washed over him.

 

It was at odds with this sober, clear-headed, fully present _want_ as they thrust against each other, making Walt’s brain light up with each motion.

 

Jesse leaned lower and he placed his mouth against Walt’s chest, biting the skin over his heart.

 

Walt ran his hand up the back of Jesse’s hair, closing his eyes for a brief moment, overcome by the sweet sting of Jesse’s teeth.

 

And then yanking Jesse’s head back by his hair, he bent down to lick a stripe along the line of Jesse’s throat, where he could actually feel Jesse’s pulse fluttering against his tongue.

 

Sitting on the mattress’ edge left them limited movements but that somehow added to the desire. But eventually Jesse had enough of being braced over Walt, and he stood up momentarily and pushed Walt back so that he was lying fully on the mattress.

 

Walt lay back, chest heaving. He took in Jesse’s slight frame as he crawled atop his body, pale from spending so much time underneath oversized clothes. He felt his gut twist from how much he wanted to mark it up.

 

Walt stilled, shocked by how immediately the thought had come to him.

 

But it dissolved the second Jesse pressed himself against the entire length of Walt’s body and began rubbing their erections together, straining against Walt’s body like he wanted to sink right through the skin.

 

Walt took in a sharp breath, arousal flaring up in his groin. Jesse kissed him, and then brought his hand up to cover Walt’s mouth.

 

Walt took the hint and licked out at Jesse’s palm, revelling in the salty taste of it. He gripped Jesse by the wrist and ran his tongue all over Jesse’s palm harder, coating it with moisture.

 

Jesse’s eyes went dark with lust, and he lowered his now slicked-up hand between them, gripping Walt’s cock. Walt groaned at the cool feel of it, encircling his aching erection.

 

Jesse jerked his hand up and down the length of Walt’s cock, squeezing him vigorously, almost aggressively. It was like he was both proving that Walt was still alive and punishing him for dying all at once.

 

Walt reached up to ghost his fingers over Jesse’s nipples, causing Jesse to suck in a breath and lose his grip on Walt’s cock.

 

Walt circled his thumbs around the buds and felt a burst of pre-come from Jesse against his lap, and had to close his eyes from how much the sensation turned him on. He was surprised he didn’t come right there.

 

Walt arched his hips up into Jesse’s fist, letting out a low throaty moan. But when he was met with slack from Jesse’s hand he opened his eyes to meet Jesse’s, who was staring down at him with an anxious expression.

 

“What?” Walt gasped out.

 

Jesse bit his lip for a moment and then opened his mouth:

 

“Don’t…don’t go,” he whispered.

 

Walt felt what was left of his heart break and Jesse looked down at him, eyes wide and aching.

 

Walt reached up towards Jesse’s mouth.

 

“I’m right here, Jesse,” he murmured, brushing Jesse’s lips with his fingers.

 

And then he kissed him bruisingly hard as if to prove it.

 

Their arms tangled around each other as they thrust together, needier than before. Walt squeezed Jesse tighter and rolled them onto their sides, where they rutted heatedly into each other’s hips.

 

They didn’t seem to have any fight left in them, but their movements were no less desperate or aggressive as they practically clawed at each other, straining to be nearer.

 

They were thrusting together exactly as they’d done last night. But whereas last night their movements had been playful and teasing, tonight neither held anything back as they held each other agonizingly hard, pushing more, taking more, needing _so_ much more than what they were getting.

 

Walt ran a hand up Jesse’s back, digging into the ridges of his spine and felt Jesse gasp into his mouth.

 

It was surreal how familiar this felt, Walt thought as he rolled Jesse over onto his back, and continued to thrust over him. Walt had already been here with Jesse. He knew what the give of Jesse’s skin felt like beneath his hands, he remembered how Jesse would sometimes break off to scrape his teeth over Walt’s jaw before going back to kiss him, and how squeezing Jesse’s hips caused them to stutter into his.

 

The muscle memory washed over Walt the tighter their arms circled around each other, and he touched Jesse, gripped Jesse and stroked Jesse by instinct.

 

Walt sucked a kiss where Jesse’s neck met his shoulder, knowing that Jesse would immediately respond with a whine, digging his fingers harder into Walt’s back.

 

And when Jesse reacted exactly the way he predicted, a voice deep inside of Walt reverberated around the word: _mine_.

 

Jesse buried his face into the crook of Walt’s neck, rocking up into him steadily, desperate thrusts, his erection rubbing Walt’s with every one. He turned his face towards Walt’s throat, pressing his lips to the skin there.

 

Walt felt Jesse’s mouth open over his throat, and his teeth scrape lightly against him. He placed a broad hand over the back of Jesse’s head, spurring him on, and Jesse bit down on the skin harder.

 

Walt had a sudden image of Jesse sinking his teeth all the way in, tearing out Walt’s throat, coating them both with Walt’s blood. He shuddered at the thought but, if he could pick any way to go out…

 

… Jesse’s teeth fastened around his veins, coated with Walt’s blood didn’t seem like the worst way to go.

 

Better to go out in a bloody flash with someone else, than go through a prolonged decline alone.

 

Walt groaned and raised his jaw a little higher, giving Jesse more access to his throat, as though he thought Jesse might rip it out, or as though maybe he _hoped_ …

 

But Jesse just dragged Walt’s chin back down so that their faces were level, and stared into his eyes, almost like he were reading Walt’s thoughts.

 

And gently tilting his chin forward, Jesse parted his lips.

 

Walt bent down to meet them.

 

Walt realized his glasses were still on and removed them with a huff of laughter, extending his arm to place them on the nightstand, thrusting over Jesse all the while. And lowering his hand he wrenched open the drawer of the nightstand, pulling out –

 

“What’s that?” asked Jesse, uncertainly.

 

Walt stilled in his action. He realized that he had - totally on impulse -  reached into the drawer and had taken out the foil packet of lube he’d found there yesterday. He’d totally forgotten about it, but pushing his hips into Jesse’s, somehow his body remembered it before his head had a chance to catch up.

 

“I –“

 

Walt was about to drop it back in when Jesse brought his legs up, hooking them around Walt’s waist.

 

Walt felt Jesse’s ankles digging into his tailbone and looked at him in disbelief.

 

“Jesse…”

 

“Do it,” said Jesse, simply.

 

Walt paused, not processing any of it. And almost with a sigh, Jesse reached out to grab the packet from Walt, ripping it open with his teeth. And coating his fingers he dropped the packet onto his chest, lifted his hips, bringing his hand underneath him, and began working his fingers in and out of himself.

 

Walt’s brain practically short circuited at the sight: Jesse with his head thrown back, eyes getting cloudy with bliss, heels digging tighter into Walt’s back. Walt couldn’t see exactly what Jesse’s fingers were doing, but picturing it had him leaking prematurely, dripping onto Jesse’s cock.

 

Jesse’s eyes went dark at the feeling, and he pulled his fingers free from himself, hand going to Walt’s cock, smearing it with any lube left from the packet. Walt shuddered at the sensation, Jesse’s that had just been in Jesse, now lightly stroking him, slicking him up.

 

Walt was trembling as he lined himself up over Jesse. But for some reason he was frozen, couldn’t make himself push in, as though the action would somehow be sealing something between them.

 

Jesse looked up at him, raising his eyebrows in a silent question. _What are you waiting for_.

 

Walt opened his mouth and no words came out. Jesse reached up to cup his jaw.

 

“Do it,” he said again. “You want this.”

 

Jesse paused and parted his lips, like he was admitting something.

 

“I want this.”

 

And that was all Walt needed to send his hips snapping forward with a groan, sliding straight into Jesse with no warning.

 

Jesse let out a choked sound and his legs tightened around Walt’s waist, his face screwed up in concentration.

 

“Wait just…gimme a sec,” he gasped out, panting.

 

Walt could only nod wordlessly, braced on his elbows, buried to the hilt inside Jesse, burning up where they were joined.

 

Oh god there was no way this was going to last. Walt could already feel his final layer of arousal dripping steadily down his spine. He was overcome by Jesse pressing around his cock on all sides, and oh god he had to _move_ already.

 

Finally finally _finally_ Jesse nodded, having adjusted to Walt inside of him, and he lifted his hips towards Walt, squeezing Walt’s shoulders where his hands were in a white-knuckle grip, giving him the go ahead.

 

Walt gasped and drew back, sliding forward again in an agonizingly smooth motion. Oh fuck, he felt his balls tightening and willed his orgasm to hold off for just a few more minutes so that he could try and process being here, being inside Jesse, everything about this being so outside the scope of everything that made sense in the world.

 

Walt thrust forward again and again in a state of half-delirium. On one stroke Jesse threw his head back, letting out a gasping groan, and Walt realized he must have hit Jesse’s prostate. He tried to keep the same angle, unable to remember exactly what he’d done to reach it, unsure if he was still successful.

 

But if Jesse’s hands, shaking where they now rested on his back were anything to go by, he was doing something right.

 

Walt bent down, lightly grazing Jesse’s lips. Jesse tilted his chin up urgently to meet him. Their mouths slowly worked together, almost languidly, at odds with Walt’s thrusts, which were getting more and more frantic and shallow.

 

Jesse made a whining sound into Walt’s mouth and Walt’s whole body quivered as he pushed achingly into Jesse again, holy shit, Jesse was literally open for him, open for Walt to press into, flooded by the tight heat with each and every stroke.

 

Walt’s orgasm was hanging by a thread. He’d practically been bursting the second Jesse pushed him back onto the bed. He could feel it creeping over his skin, sheathed in Jesse whose hands were stroking down his back, cupping his ass, squeezing as he panted under Walt’s mouth.

 

All of a sudden Jesse’s back arched, his hips pushing up towards Walt, enveloping him further, and Walt felt a warm wetness coating his stomach as Jesse cried out.

 

And then Walt was done for. Heat pooled in the whole lower half of his body, he felt a jerk from head to toe and he was coming harder than he could have believed possible, spilling inside Jesse, hot bursts that came again and again, his hips and mouth and every single nerve inside of him all straining towards Jesse.

 

He clenched his teeth, trying to keep his molecules together as the rest of the shocks washed over him. The tremors of his orgasm felt like they’d never stop and he pressed his forehead to Jesse’s until the shaking subsided.

 

After a few more moments he gradually eased himself down onto Jesse, resting on top of him, breathing heavily. Jesse absently stroked his back while panting slightly. Walt’s ear was directly over Jesse’s heart and he could feel how fast it was going. He turned his head slightly to kiss Jesse’s chest, and closed his eyes.

 

A few moments later he heard Jesse saying:

 

“Uh, Mr. White…”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Can you…it’s just…I’m kinda – “

 

Walt realized he was still half buried in Jesse.

 

“Oh, right, just –“

 

He eased out of Jesse slowly, partly not to hurt him, but also because he wanted to savour every last fleeting second of being completely inside of Jesse. He didn’t know how he knew, but he understood that even despite Jesse coming back for him once more, Walt wouldn’t be back there again.

 

All too soon he was slipping the rest of the way out of him, resting his head on Jesse’s chest again, his hand going to the backs of Jesse’s thighs, sighing as he traced a finger through the moisture that was dripping down Jesse’s leg.

 

Jesse shivered but leaned into the touch. And reaching forward he grasped a corner of the blanket and pulled it up over both of them, even covering their heads.

 

Walt’s eyes had adjusted to the dark of the room before, but now they were completely enveloped in black. He shifted closer to Jesse unconsciously, arms wrapped around him. Jesse pulled Walt in closer and held him there, hand still running loosely up and down Walt’s back.

 

“So?” his lips murmured into Walt’s cheek.

 

Walt turned his head to face Jesse, their lips brushing as he did, sharing the same breath.

 

“So?” He had to stop himself from tacking on a ‘what’ at the end.

 

Jesse’s hand stopped its movements as he hesitated.

 

“Did this…”

 

Walt waited.

 

“Did this ‘never happen’, too?” he asked softly. The question fluttered over Walt’s lips and Walt felt guilt spiral in his stomach.

 

He reached up to where he guessed Jesse’s chin was since he still couldn’t see a thing. He got it right the first try, and rubbed Jesse’s jawline with his thumb.

 

“How am I supposed to pretend anything to do with you never happened?” he answered quietly, echoing Jesse’s own words back at him, the phrase coming easily in the dark where he couldn’t see Jesse’s face.

 

When he felt Jesse’s arms relax around him he knew he’d gotten the words right, too.

 

And he leaned in gingerly, catching Jesse in a soft kiss that Jesse responded to immediately as they lay curled together in the dark. Jesse covered Walt’s hand with his own as he kissed him back, under the covers. The simple action somehow overwhelmed Walt even more than being inside of Jesse had.

 

Eventually Walt had to pull back and he eased lower so that his face was pressed against Jesse’s chest, arms around his sides.

 

There was silence for a while, the only sound coming from their breathing as it returned to normal. Jesse lightly traced Walt’s back with his fingers before asking another question.

 

“But it can’t happen again…right?”

 

Walt’s throat closed up as he buried his head in Jesse’s chest, shaking his head against the skin rather than telling Jesse ‘no’.

 

“Because you’re dying?”

 

A nod this time. Yes.

 

Walt started to shake, truly accepting it for the first time. He bit his lip as he felt Jesse’s arms tighten around him. And when they enfolded him completely, only then did Walt silently let the tears come.

 

Jesse didn’t say another word, he just kept stroking Walt’s back while he felt Walt shaking against him.

 

And if Jesse felt any dampness blooming on his chest from Walt’s eyes, he didn’t say a word about that either.

 

 

***

 

They didn’t exchange too many words while driving back to the real world. They hadn’t said much that morning either while getting out of bed, Walt going straight to the bathroom to splash his face so there’d be no redness to comment on.

 

Not that he thought Jesse would. But what would be the use in dwelling on it.

 

Packing up the RV and pulling away from the motel almost felt like something final, a breaking out of this unplanned limbo where apparently anything could happen before it became time to head back to each of their lives.

 

Driving down the highway Walt shot a glance over to Jesse in the driver’s seat, his fingers splayed over the steering wheel, checking the rearview mirror frequently, remembering to signal, checking his blindspots, all the things Walt normally berated him about forgetting. But they went off without a hitch here. If he was worried about receiving a lecture from Walt, he didn’t have to be. Considering everything that had happened, turn signals felt a bit irrelevant in the grand scheme of things.

 

But maybe he just didn’t feel like arguing with Walt.

 

Walt wished he had. Things might have felt a bit more normal

 

But it’s true there wouldn’t have been much use in it, Walt driving to his death and all.

 

God…it was insane to contemplate. I mean to _really_ contemplate, beyond a kind of abstract awareness that cancer equals death.

 

Walt was dying and the first time he’d actually _truly_ accepted it was last night, wrapped in Jesse’s arms where he didn’t have to see his face.

 

He kept watching Jesse out of the corner of his eye. Jesse seemed to be normal enough after the past few days. Walt still had no idea what had prompted him to come back in the first place, to kiss Walt again, climb atop him, wrap his legs around him…

 

Walt knew without asking that it wasn’t happening again.

 

Walt also knew without asking that that it would be the case whether Walt was dying or not. Jesse had other things ahead of him.

 

Probably for the best. Jesse was due for a life without Walt. And if he wanted to talk to a girlfriend he shouldn’t have to lock himself in a bathroom to do it, away from Walt.

 

Walt understood.

 

Walt just wished he’d kissed him even a little bit longer.

 

Turning his head back towards the highway he saw a truck coming from the opposite direction in the other lane.

 

He could see it all so clearly. Reaching out to grab the wheel over Jesse’s hand, wrenching it to the side, the RV spinning out of control with its tires screeching straight into the truck where it would crash and explode into smithereens, sending Walt and Jesse up in flames, burning together, ashes mingled under the desert sky, no telling whose particles belonged to who anymore. They’d never have to go back.

 

Walt’s hand twitched.

 

And then Jesse turned to him at just that moment.

 

“I’ll swing by the junkyard first, I left my car there. We’ll go to the airport in that. You know, in case someone reported the meth lab on wheels the other day.”

 

Jesse cracked a smile, joking at his own expense. Walt felt himself soften while looking at Jesse who - after everything - was still somehow earnest, still aiming to please Walt even if he didn’t always get it right the first time.

 

Walt knew then that it would be okay.

 

“That’s fine, Jesse.”

 

The truck passed by.

 

They made the swap to Jesse’s car quickly and continued on towards the airport. Walt had been dreading the moment but somehow he felt a bit more accepting of the whole thing. Almost peaceful.

 

So when he asked Jesse, “I know I can trust you to…” it was with certainty of Jesse’s answer that no matter what happened in the future, or whatever had happened in the recent past, Jesse would still look out for Walt’s family.

 

Walt got out of the car feeling a lot better about his fate than he had a few days ago. As he reached for his bag in the backseat of the car and prepared to walk away, Jesse’s voice pulled him back. He bent down to the window.

 

“I’ll be hearing from you…yeah?” Jesse asked softly.

 

Walt stared at him, the first time he’d really looked him in the eye all morning. Jesse might think he wanted to hear from Walt, but Walt knew it wouldn’t help him any.

 

Fading out of Jesse’s life as seamlessly as possible was really the least he could do.

 

“Yeah.”

 

The car pulled away but Walt didn’t even bother to watch it go. He wanted to but he  resisted the impulse and kept his head facing centre.

 

Like he’d thought multiple times: no use dwelling.

 

Because at some point in between hiding out in a motel room with Jesse, trying to forget about dreams in which he was dying painfully, quizzing Jesse about his future, angrily pinning Jesse to the wall, Jesse yelling at him to feel something, Jesse kissing him with chilled lips and burning intentions, Jesse pulling Walt towards him, inside him, Jesse holding him while Walt finally let his tears leak out leaving streaks of wetness directly over Jesse’s heart…

 

Walt had finally accepted that he was dying.

 

And not only that…

 

Walt was finally okay with it as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you sooooo much for your patience in waiting for part 2!
> 
> And since 4 Days Out is an episode with a very cheery and upbeat first half but a much more sombre and reflective second half, that's kind of what I was trying out here haha (keyword: trying)
> 
> Anyways thanks again and hope you enjoy!


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